


Hogwarts: A Clearwater Perspective

by CorvinaNightshade



Series: Hogwarts: Class of '96 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, Canon until epilogue, Complete, Diagon Alley, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Felix Felicis, Fred Weasley Lives, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Halloween, Happy Ending, Hog's Head Inn (Harry Potter), Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts Prefects' Bathroom, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Leaky Cauldron, Long, Love Stories, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Plot, Post-Canon, Potions, Ravenclaw, Ravens, Resolved Sexual Tension, Respectful Relationships, Rise of Voldemort, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, St Mungo's Hospital, Strong Female Characters, Three Broomsticks, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 143,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvinaNightshade/pseuds/CorvinaNightshade
Summary: Andrea Clearwater, the younger sister of Penelope Clearwater, is a seventh-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, class of 1996. Andrea is a studious Ravenclaw that hopes to enjoy her last year at Hogwarts before joining her parents in running their tea house in Diagon Alley post-Hogwarts; however, Andrea soon realizes that this year could be her most unusual yet, as news of her recent breakup with Oliver Wood leads her friend George Weasley to act on feelings that he had previously restrained. Hogwarts: A Clearwater Perspective is a story of friendship, love, and hardships associated with the alleged return of the Dark Lord.PS. A painstaking amount of research & work was put in to making this story true to the timeline in the 5th HP book, so canon nerds- do enjoy! Comments are much appreciated!
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Blaise Zabini/Original Character(s), George Weasley & Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Penelope Clearwater/Percy Weasley, Roger Davies/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Hogwarts: Class of '96 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964179
Comments: 42
Kudos: 126
Collections: Fics That I Wouldn't Mind Losing Sleep Over, Fred and George Weasley, Harry Potter OC Fanfiction, Weasely Twins, harry potter oc





	1. Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended Listening - Ravenclaw Common Room Ambiance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CEq9LARLv4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 9/27/2020

Andrea Clearwater pushed her trolley through a bustling crowd of muggles on an early September morning at King’s Cross station on her annual voyage to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Many stared as her raven, Hugin, squawked incessantly as they rolled along from his large cage perched atop all of her school things.

For the first time in the whole seven years in attending Hogwarts, she was running very late which made her uncharacteristically jumpy. After what felt like ages of swerving in and out of crowds, she approached the pillar for platform 9 ¾ with just five minutes to spare. With a deep breath, she ran straight through it without bothering to check whether any muggles were watching.

Great clouds of smoke were billowing out of the gleaming scarlet Hogwarts Express, as a few last students scrambled onto the train at the sound of the final whistle. Hugin shrieked noisily as Andrea yanked his cage and her belongings off of the trolley and ran for it. Andrea finished dragging her largest trunk up the metal steps, through the doorway, and hastily shoved it into a luggage rack by the door just as the engine slowly rumbled to a start.

With a sigh of relief, she started down the corridor to try and find an agreeable compartment. A sweet nostalgia swept over her as she absorbed the familiar sights, smells, and sounds of the Hogwarts Express. The compartments were already mostly full, but she couldn’t help glancing in each to find the students already breaking out Gobstones and rummaging through their things for their wands, eager to start using magic again after their two months of summer holidays.

Andrea loved the summer break especially because she could spend time with her best friend, Frida. Her one regret at the start of each school year was leaving Frida behind. Frida was a muggle and, strictly speaking, was not supposed to know anything about the wizarding world. Fortunately, their fathers were best friends from childhood, and Frida’s father, Pat, was Andrea’s godfather.

As part of a wizarding family, the Ministry of Magic granted Frida’s family permission to be exposed to the wizarding world in the same way that they did for Andrea’s muggle father when her parents were married. Of course, this did not mean that Frida was able to attend a school where students study witchcraft, so as Andrea passed a compartment of chattering Ravenclaw fourth years, she swallowed a bitter lump knowing that no one on the whole train could compare to Frida’s company.

As she neared the end of the train, a great, black mushroom cloud burst from a compartment ahead with a loud bang and a flash. Andrea hurried forward, stepping into the dark smoke and shot a look inside the compartment from which it came. As she peered through the haze from the doorway, a voice from the dust cloud said, “ _ Shhh _ !  _ Shhh _ ! It’s a prefect! Hide them, quickly  _ now _ !”

The cloud slowly dissipated and three heads of red hair and one blonde appeared. By the time the smoke had completely cleared Andrea saw the rather small, blonde boy hastily stowing something small and green into his filthy shoulder bag.

“Aha! It’s only Andrea! I thought you were Penelope – Percy the Prefect’s budding bride, for a moment! You sort of look like her, don’t you? Anyways, not to worry Andrea, we were only demonstrating some merchandise to a potential buyer,” said Fred Weasley in an unconvincingly innocent tone.

“Don’t worry Collin! She’s alright… for a prefect at least,” said George Weasley (Fred’s twin) with a sly wink and flashing a crooked smile.

“Don’t test my patience, Weasley! I could give you detention for this you know,” said Andrea with a smirk and swishing back her long, black loose curls for dramatic effect. “I think Filch would be more than happy to let you help clean the bedpans in the hospital wing for him!”

“Wow, Percy would be proud! Putting us in our place is no easy task,” said George.

“I don’t think Percy or Penelope ever  _ did _ grow enough balls to punish us did they, George?” said Fred.

“Nah, but I reckon Andrea might,” said George, shaking his head and giving Andrea a peculiar look.

“Well, she may yet show you both mercy if you at least offer to help her bring her things inside!” said Ginny Weasley, grinning at Andrea from her seat by the window.

At this both Fred and George leapt up, bound over to the door, and snatched up Hugin’s cage and Andrea’s backpack, before each bowing to her mockingly as she took her seat.

“Quite right you are, Ginny! After all, have a reputation as model citizens to keep up with,” said Fred, sharing a wicked chuckle with George.

Fred and George Weasley were Gryffindors in Andrea’s year, and certainly were  _ not _ model citizens. In fact, their reputation for class clowns had been contended by very few in all of her years at Hogwarts.

Ever since  _ their _ older brother, Percy, had started dating  _ her _ older sister, Penelope, the twins had made a point to pester Andrea for her association with the pair (not that they weren’t equally as associated as she was). It certainly didn’t help matters that she was a Ravenclaw prefect just like her sister.

Despite all of their proclamations of disappointment and heartbreak upon hearing the news that Andrea had been made perfect two years ago, the twins couldn’t have been more pleased at this announcement. They then had all the fuel they needed for endless teasing for years to come. However, Andrea usually enjoyed their anti-Penelope jokes, as the twins seemed to be the only ones to truly grasp how annoying her sister was.

Luckily for them, Andrea wasn’t like Penelope at all, and she secretly rather enjoyed the Weasley twins’ antics. If she had been, the twins would certainly have landed themselves each a hefty detention before they had even sat down for the start-of-term feast.

“Hello, Collin,” said Andrea, pointedly changing the subject. “That’s your name isn’t it? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Andrea.”

She looked at Collin for a moment, waiting for him to respond, but he did not. He was gaping at her as if she was a venomous  _ tentacula _ plant from the school greenhouse. Collin was a shy fourth year who never seemed to have quite grown up – he still had the appearance of a twelve year old who had gotten ahold of a can of rapid-growth  _ bubotuber _ fertilizer, making him much taller and thinner than he ought to be.

Andrea, by contrast, was uncommonly striking, so reactions like Collin’s were not completely foreign to her. She had long, loose, raven black curls that hung freely down her back and emphasized her pale, freckled complexion.

She was taller than Ginny (the twin’s younger sister), but still shorter than most boys her age, and her figure provoked more than a few backwards glances in the corridors at Hogwarts. Perhaps most unusual of all were her deep amber eyes which had a burst of forest green just around the irises.

As Collin slouched in his seat with his mouth slightly open, Andrea began feeling increasingly uncomfortable, so she resolved to occupy herself by opening a pack of cockroach clusters to appease poor, still perturbed Hugin. The twins exchanged a meaningful glance before Fred said, “Don’t fret Collin, she doesn’t bite! Just ask Wood…  _ OUCH _ !!”

Ginny had jabbed Fred hard in the knee with her wand, as Andrea’s eyes, still fixed on the wrapper of her cockroach clusters, flashed dangerously.

“Say Andrea, how  _ is _ our old Quidditch captain? He’s probably realized by now how much we were really worth as Beaters now that he’s on a pro team,” said George. “He always took us for granted, didn’t he Fred?”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Andrea flicking a cockroach cluster into Hugin’s cage, watching him gulp it down ravenously. “I broke it off with him, last year. Remember?”

_ Fred _ clearly did remember and seemed to be delighted at the direction the conversation was heading. Kicking his feet up onto the window sill and tossing his head back onto his hands, Fred smiled smugly at Andrea.

“Ahh! Yes you  _ did _ , you did! Right before the Yule Ball last year! That couldn’t have been because you acquired a taste for Bulgarian could it?” said Fred, wagging his eyebrows obnoxiously.

“Fred…  _ Please…  _ I really do not want to have to explain myself to you or to anyone else. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll  _ stuff _ it,” groused Andrea, blushing behind a copy of the  _ Quibbler _ that Luna Lovegood had offered her on her way to the compartment.

“Was that a  _ threat,  _ Clearwater?! Also,  _ how _ could you tell that I’m Fred??” said Fred laughing. “Not even Mum is that good.”

“It’s because  _ you’re  _ the one who doesn’t know when to stop,” snapped Andrea defensively, still half hiding behind her magazine.

In truth, she could always tell the twins apart. Even now, glancing over the top of the magazine that she was pretending to read, she could tell.

Physically, the two young men were completely identical. She found both annoyingly attractive with their red-brown eyes, angular faces, surprisingly well-styled red hair, and devilish grins. Not to mention the two were very much in shape.

She wasn’t sure whether it was due to all of the Quidditch they played or simply good genetics, but their athletic forms were noticeable even from under loose wizard’s robes.

In part, Andrea could tell the twins apart, because their mannerisms differed slightly to a trained eye, but mostly she could tell them apart because of how each of them looked at her. Fred looked at her with friendly mirth (that usually was derived from annoying her with prefect jokes).

George, however, looked at her in an altogether different way. To Andrea, the strangest part about George’s peculiar behavior was that everyone else seemed to be completely oblivious to it. Even Oliver Wood, her ex-boyfriend and the twins’ old Quidditch captain didn’t seem to notice. George teased her a little less than Fred did, and his eyes seemed to fall on Andrea with the slightest gentleness which she often thought she must be imagining.

Other times, she would accidentally make eye contact with George across the Great Hall or a courtyard to find him staring at her intently with his dark eyes, making her blush and look quickly away. She had only seen that particular look a handful of times, but their overall chemistry allowed her to effortlessly identify him.

As the morning went on, Andrea kept herself occupied with reading a muggle novel that she had borrowed from Frida, sharing funny bits with Ginny as they came up. Meanwhile, Fred and George dashed in and out of the compartment, flagging down potential customers for their emerging joke shop, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

Around lunchtime, Andrea and Ginny had been enjoying a quiet moment when the twins had stepped out to heckle a first year, to giggle over a particularly juicy passage in Frida’s book, when the twins loudly burst into the compartment.

“And just as he sat down, the puss filled boils all over his--- _ Ladies _ !! What’s got the pair of you looking so cheerful, eh?” said Fred with a shrewd grin, stuffing a small green box into his pocket. “Is Andrea teaching you to read smutty novels, Ginny? Mum will be thrilled! She can loan you her copy of  _ Lorcan d'Eath’s Got Vampire Teeth _ .”

“Argh! We are  _ not _ reading a dirty novel!!” barked Ginny, turning scarlet to the ears. “Andrea was just showing me a funny bit in this muggle novel she’s got.”

“Funny? That’s our specialty!” said George, flashing a grin.

“Hand it over, then!” said Fred. “Let us give it a look and we can give you ladies our expert opinions.”

Andrea snapped her book shut and packed it in her bag shooting a menacing glare at the twins.

“Why must you always assume the worst about me?” said Andrea with a dramatic sigh.

“The worst? Hardly!” said Fred. “We  _ all _ have our areas of  _ expertise _ ! George and me, we know how to have a good laugh,” he said, suddenly tossing a miniature bicycle horn from out of his pocket and onto the floor which ran on two little legs. It scampered out of the compartment and down the corridor, honking madly at passerby’s.

“And  _ my  _ area of expertise…?” asked Andrea, narrowing her eyes at Fred.

“Oh – that? Well, biting people, for one!” said Fred nonchalantly. “Also you  _ were _ with Wood for a decent  _ bit  _ of time, and,  _ honestly _ Andrea, there are loads more private places to snog than the Quidditch locker room. Only joking! Geeze! Don’t get your knickers in a twist!”

Ginny glanced, wide eyed, between Andrea, Fred, and George.

“I _don’t_ _bite_ people, Fred” said Andrea through gritted teeth, automatically gripping her wand. She did not particularly want to have this conversation in front of Ginny, nor did she want to confirm the twins’ suspicions about some of Oliver and her extracurricular activities.

“Ah, then it must have been the giant squid that attacked Oliver, George!” said Fred, shaking his head sympathetically. “Awfully small though, the suction cups. Always thought they’d be enormous. Must have tried to strangle him while he was out polishing his broom handle by the lake! No wonder he never fancied telling us how he got those marks.”

It was true that Andrea  _ might _ have gotten a little enthusiastic with Oliver one day, and accidently left a few love bites on him. Unfortunately, she had forgotten that he would have to undress in the Quidditch locker rooms, and Fred and George must have gotten a look.

“I’m finished engaging in this childish exercise,” said Andrea, getting up and sliding open the compartment door. She had a feeling that their conversation would only continue heading south. She was feeling more and more like she was going to snap – she did not appreciate the implications of what Fred was saying and she did  _ not  _ find it amusing. “Want to go look for the lunch trolley, Ginny? It should be here any minute now, and I need some air.”

“Absolutely,” said Ginny, clearly eager to break the tension that was steadily building in their compartment.

Half way down the corridor, Ginny spotted her other brother, Ron Weasley, a fifth year, talking animatedly to his friends Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger.

“Andrea, do you mind if I stop in this compartment for a bit?” said Ginny, peering eagerly through the glass door as if trying to catch part of their conversation.

“Sure thing, I’ll be buying food and maybe walking around a bit more. Don’t worry about me!” said Andrea.

“You sure? Okay, great! See you later, then!” said Ginny, sliding open the compartment door and slipping in.

Andrea made her way farther down the corridor and spotted the older witch that hobbled along selling a variety of wizarding snacks. She was busy distributing boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans, several cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties, and a large handful of chocolate frog packs to a swarm of older Slytherins. The witch looked quite busy, so Andrea leaned against a nearby window to wait for an opening.

“Oi! You there!” said a familiar voice from behind. George was striding up the corridor towards her with his hands in his pockets sporting a mildly sheepish, yet typical Weasley-grin.

“Hey,” said Andrea flatly, turning her attention back to the trolley witch.

George leaned up against the window next to Andrea, looking at the ceiling for the moment.

“What do ya reckon you’ll get?” said George.

“I don’t really know yet,” said Andrea, trying her best to sound casual and keep her eyes fixed on the trolley witch, who was having a small argument with a boy who was five sickles short. “Maybe I’ll get a couple pumpkin pasties or a cauldron cake.”

Andrea stared blankly at the hubbub in silence for a long moment. She was not eager to receive any further taunting about her romantic past from either of the twins.

“Listen, Andrea,” said George seriously, gently taking her shoulder and turning her to face him. “Don’t take Fred too seriously. He was just fooling around. It’s nothing personal. We just can’t pass up an excuse for a laugh!”

Andrea looked down at George’s hand, which was still resting softly on her shoulder, then up to his face which was only a fair four inches above hers. He looked at her sincerely as his eyes searched her face for something unknown to her.

Something had certainly changed in their interactions slowly over the years. They had become increasingly flirtatious, but this new, bolder behavior still took Andrea off guard.

“So you’ve said,” said Andrea, slowly turning back to face the trolley trying to hide the slight rise in color in her face.

George moved around to Andrea’s other side to face her, once more cutting off her view of the trolley. “Yes, but I just wanted to make sure you weren’t too upset,” said George with a small smile. “We wouldn’t want you  _ actually _ angry with us!”

Andrea noticed vaguely that the old witch had finally finished with the Slytherins and approached Andrea and George for their order.

“One pumpkin pasty, one cauldron cake, and a pack of peppermint toads, please,” said Andrea, pulling out her money bag.

“I’ve got it, Andrea!” said George “And I’ll have a box of Bertie Bott’s if you will ma’am,” brandishing a handful of wizard money at the witch.

Andrea stared, stunned for a moment, at George. In all the time she had known the twins, the pair had been very tight with money, and certainly never lent money to anyone to her knowledge. In addition to being part of a rather poor family, the twins had been saving up for their business.

“No,” said Andrea. “Don’t worry about it. Let me. Really, it’s fine – I can pay for my own food.”

“I insist,” said George with a roguish wink, stowing his change in his pocket.

George handed Andrea’s items to her, and took his own box of Bertie Bott’s Beans. “Would you share with me?” said George.

Andrea normally wasn’t particularly fond of Bertie Bott’s, but something in George’s countenance made her agree.

“Sure. I don’t see why not,” said Andrea, as they made their way back down the corridor back to their compartment.

Andrea spent the remainder of the trip to Hogwarts picking out particularly suspicious-looking beans and daring the twins to eat them while she dug around for safer-looking ones. She even agreed to try the twins’ nosebleed nougat which ended up causing her nose to gush uncontrollably, spouting blood all over her clothes and belongings and causing Hugin to have an uproar.

Shortly after the chaos had ended, Andrea decided it was time to change into her robes and to join the other prefects so that she could help guide the first years to the boats once they arrived at the station. This, of course, meant a tirade of prefect-related humor from the twins until she said ‘goodbye’ to Hugin, slammed the compartment door shut, and made her way to the front of the train.

As the train slowed, Andrea looked out at the familiar, dark platform. Her last year at Hogwarts had finally begun. After the Triwizard Tournament last year, she doubted this year could be any more exciting, but she couldn’t help but feel hopeful as she scanned the skyline for the dark silhouette of the most magical place she’d ever been to.

The wheels of the Hogwarts Express screeched as the train lurched to a full stop, and Andrea hopped off the train ahead of the rest of the school.

“First years! Make your way down to the end of the platform! First years! Hey, are you a first year? Head that way.  _ Excuse _ me, don’t shove!” said Andrea as the platform churned with chattering students in black robes.

“Nicely done, Andrea!” jeered Fred as he and George passed by. “Keep these hooligans in form!”

To Andrea’s surprise, George said nothing, but he kept his eyes fixed on hers and gave her a small grin before turning forward again. The twins sauntered off, cheerfully greeting several Gryffindor’s from their Quidditch team.

Andrea turned back to the platform. Almost everyone had cleared off, so she turned to walk up the winding path to the carriages with a slight skip in her step that she tried not to overthink. Andrea looked forward to her last start-of-term feast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	2. The Pink Professor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 9/27/2020

It was quite dark as the horse-less carriages passed through the gates of the school grounds and rattled on passed Hagrid’s hut. The fragrance of evergreen from the Dark Forest blew through the open window and lingered sweetly in Andrea’s curls.

As Andrea stepped down from her carriage, she gazed at the thousands of sparkling stars above reflected back on the surface of the Black Lake. She couldn’t see them at all from her family’s apartment in Diagon Alley in London. Though she loved the bustle of wizards that passed in and out of her mother’s tea shop below, there was nothing that compared to the natural beauty and stillness of Hogwarts’s wilderness. 

She followed the river of black-clad students that ran up the stone steps and through the great wooden doors that stood, wide-open at Hogwarts’s grand entrance. Though she passed under the archway to the Great Hall, Andrea could still see the starry night sky perfectly depicted on the ceiling above hundreds of floating candles. 

She took a seat at the Ravenclaw table close to one of the large fireplaces, and scanned the staff table for Professor McGonagall. Transfiguration was Andrea’s best subject, and she had been working with Professor McGonagall on a secret project for the past few years. 

Andrea was eager to discuss some of the details with her as soon as she could. She caught McGonagall’s eye, who gave her a small smile and a quick nod which seemed to mean that she understood that Andrea wanted to talk to her later. McGonagall then stood up and briskly walked out of the Great Hall – presumably, to fetch the first years for the sorting ceremony. 

Andrea was studying to become an animagus. Becoming an animagus, transforming into an animal on command, was no commonly achieved feat, and it was considered highly dangerous to attempt. There had only ever been seven registered animagi in the twentieth century including McGonagall, so Andrea felt confident that there was no one better qualified to assist her in learning. 

The Great Hall was full of the babble of hundreds of young witches and wizards, not to mention the many silvery ghosts that glided every which way through the air. She heard one of the twin’s voices over the clatter shout, “Better  _ yet _ , let’s give it a test on old Filch!”

Andrea sighed and rolled her eyes and thought amusedly that those boys couldn’t have one year without causing at least several major incidents. As she watched the four long house tables fill with students, she saw Ginny enter with her brother, Ronald, and Harry Potter. Potter had said that he saw You-Know-Who return at the end of last term. 

This topic most always turned up in students’ conversations and was quite controversial, especially since a boy in her year, Cedric Diggory, had been killed by You-Know-Who according to Potter. However, Andrea believed it. She didn’t know why - she just did. It also helped that Albus Dumbledore, the school headmaster and greatest wizard of the age, also adamantly shared this view.

“Hey Andrea! Long time no see eh?,” said Jamie, a pretty young, ginger Ravenclaw witch in Andrea’s year. 

Andrea stood up to hug Jamie, “Jamie! I’ve missed you! Have you seen Eliza or Roger?” 

Andrea’s closest Ravenclaw friends in her year were Jamie Donoghue, Eliza Olivera, and Roger Davies, but Andrea had somehow missed them all on the train. 

“I haven’t seen Eliza,” said Jamie, settling down next to Andrea, “but I saw Roger up at the staff table bothering Flitwick about something a few minutes ago.” 

Andrea looked up and directed their attention to Professor McGonagall, who was leading a large group of first years down the center aisle between the four great tables, a wooden stool and the sorting hat in her hands. She set the hat down on top of the stool, stood back, and waited. The Great Hall fell silent as they turned their attention to the sorting ceremony. The hat sat very still, quivered, then burst into song:

“ _ In times of old when I was new _ _   
_ _ And Hogwarts barely started _ _   
_ _ The founders of our noble school _ _   
_ _ Thought never to be parted: _ _   
  
_

_ United by a common goal, _ _   
_ _ They had the selfsame yearning, _ _   
_ _ To make the world’s best magic school _ _   
_ _ And pass along their learning. _

_   
_ _ “Together we will build and teach!” _ _   
_ _ The four good friends decided _ _   
_ _ And never did they dream that they _ _   
_ _ Might someday be divided, _

_   
_ _ For were there such friends anywhere _ _   
_ _ As Slytherin and Gryffindor? _ _   
_ _ Unless it was the second pair _ _   
_ _ Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw? _

_   
_ _ So how could it have gone so wrong? _ _   
_ _ How could such friendships fail? _ _   
_ _ Why, I was there and so can tell _ _   
_ _ The whole sad, sorry tale. _

_   
_ _ Said Slytherin, “We’ll teach just those _ _   
_ _ Whose ancestry is purest.” _ _   
_ _ Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach those whose _ _   
_ _ Intelligence is surest.” _

_   
_ _ Said Gryffindor, “We’ll teach all those _ _   
_ _ With brave deeds to their name,” _ _   
_ _ Said Hufflepuff, “I’ll teach the lot, _ _   
_ _ And treat them just the same.” _

_   
_ _ These differences caused little strife _ _   
_ _ When first they came to light, _ _   
_ _ For each of the four founders had _ _   
_ _ A House in which they might _

_   
_ _ Take only those they wanted, so, _ _   
_ _ For instance, Slytherin _ _   
_ _ Took only pure-blood wizards _ _   
_ _ Of great cunning, just like him, _

_   
_ _ And only those of sharpest mind _ _   
_ _ Were taught by Ravenclaw _ _   
_ _ While the bravest and the boldest _ _   
_ _ Went to daring Gryffindor. _

_   
_ _ Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest, _ _   
_ _ And taught them all she knew, _ _   
_ _ Thus the Houses and their founders _ _   
_ _ Retained friendships firm and true. _

_   
_ _ So Hogwarts worked in harmony _ _   
_ _ For several happy years, _ _   
_ _ But then discord crept among us _ _   
_ _ Feeding on our faults and fears. _

_   
_ _ The Houses that, like pillars four, _ _   
_ _ Had once held up our school, _ _   
_ _ Now turned upon each other and, _ _   
_ _ Divided, sought to rule. _

_   
_ _ And for a while it seemed the school _ _   
_ _ Must meet an early end, _ _   
_ _ What with dueling and with fighting _ _   
_ _ And the clash of friend on friend _

_   
_ _ And at last there came a morning _ _   
_ _ When old Slytherin departed _ _   
_ _ And though the fighting then died out _ _   
_ _ He left us quite downhearted. _

_   
_ _ And never since the founders four _ _   
_ _ Were whittled down to three _ _   
_ _ Have the Houses been united _ _   
_ _ And they once were meant to be. _

_   
_ _ And now the Sorting Hat is here _ _   
_ _ And you all know the score: _ _   
_ _ I sort you into Houses _ _   
_ _ Because that is what I’m for, _

_   
_ _ But this year I’ll go further, _ _   
_ _ Listen closely to my song: _ _   
_ _ Though condemned I am to split you _ _   
_ _ Still I worry that it’s wrong, _

_   
_ _ Though I must fulfill my duty _ _   
_ _ And must quarter every year _ _   
_ _ Still I wonder whether sorting _ _   
_ _ May not bring the end I fear. _

_   
_ _ Oh, know the perils, read the signs, _ _   
_ _ The warning history shows, _ _   
_ _ For our Hogwarts is in danger _ _   
_ _ From external, deadly foes _

_   
_ _ And we must unite inside her _ _   
_ _ Or we’ll crumble from within. _ _   
_ _ I have told you, I have warned you… _ _   
_ _ Let the Sorting now begin. _ ”

A warning song? What a great way to start the term. The sorting went by quickly, and as Dumbledore began his usual start of term speech, Andrea was deep in thought. She knew that the song must have to do with You-Know-Who returning to power. That was one of many reasons that she so desperately needed to undergo her initial transformation as an animagus.

Maybe she was becoming paranoid, but she had heard about the way muggle-borns, or perhaps even half-bloods, were treated before Harry Potter vanquished You-Know-Who. She had also heard increasingly frequent rumors of muggle-born witches and wizards going missing over the past few months. As an animagus, Andrea felt that she would be safer and could potentially open doors that could protect her family.

Andrea’s train of thought was suddenly broken as she realized that Dumbledore was no longer speaking. Instead, a high-pitched, raspy woman’s voice was addressing the Great Hall. Andrea had missed most of what she was saying, and could hardly pay attention to what she was saying now, as the woman’s appearance was incredibly distracting. 

She was squat, dressed in all pink, and had a face like a large toad that hadn’t quite mastered the subtle use of blush or lipstick. On top of that, she used a horrible little bow in her short, curly brown hair. Her eyes passed hungrily from one side of the room to the other as she spoke with a sickly sweet tone that Andrea was sure that nobody there could mistake as genuine. 

The pink woman finished, dramatically cleared her throat, and wiggled back into her seat. Professor Dumbledore, who wore a peculiar expression said, “Thank you Professor Umbridge,” and motioned for the feast to begin.

Even though Andrea had missed most of what she said, she had a strong feeling that this Umbridge woman was at Hogwarts for the singular purpose of asserting her dominance. Nearly everyone at the Ravenclaw table wanted to discuss this new establishment over the sumptuous feast that materialized on the long table. 

Andrea heard from the others that this woman was from the Ministry of Magic and was to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. As curious as the idea of that horrible little woman teaching defensive magic was, Andrea was especially thankful that she had decided not to take Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. 

Andrea happily dug into some pies that sat in front of her, and gladly ignored her classmates that were questioning Cho Chang, a sixth year, about whether or not she believed that her late boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, had been killed by You-Know-Who last year during the Triwizard Tournament as Potter claimed. 

The feast passed by swiftly, and before long, Andrea headed to the back of the Great Hall to wait for dismissal, so that she could lead the new Ravenclaw first years to their tower and dormitories. Roger was also a prefect, and soon joined Andrea near the door.

“Hey, Andrea! Nice Summer?” said Roger. “The girls and I missed you at Eliza’s birthday party.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” said Andrea. “I couldn’t go. I had to help my parents with an event at the tea shop that day. Someone had a bridal shower and brought thirty people when they had told us before that they had eight coming when they reserved.”

“Woah. Sounds horrible.” said Roger, yawning loudly. “Man, am I ready for bed.”

“Me too. This day needs to end,” said Andrea, stretching her arms. “I’m trying to stay positive after finding out that we have an old Ministry hag like Umbridge here. I  _ really  _ wanted to enjoy our last year here so badly.

“Anyway,” she said with a sigh, “I’ll take the lead with the first years if you don’t mind. I want to be the first one in the common room so I can beat everyone to the best shower.”

“Sure,” said Roger, “Not a problem.”

The students all rose as Dumbledore wished everyone a good night and dismissed them. 

“Ravenclaw first years! This way, quickly now!” said Andrea, moving quickly. “Good job, everyone – we’re ahead of the crowd. Come now and follow me out this way.”

“TEE HEE  _ HOO _ !” screeched a high, crackly voice directly above the group, as they passed out from under the archway into the entrance hall. Andrea, leading the crowd, looked up. Hovering about twenty feet above their heads was the school poltergeist, Peeves. 

Peeves was balancing a large, teetering wooden pail on the palm of his hand as if he were performing a circus trick for them all. 

“TEE HEE  _ HOO _ !” shouted Peeves once more, now that he had their attention. “ _ WHO _ WANTS SOME  _ GOO _ ?!” 

Peeves grinned horribly and cackled as he upturned the pale right over the spot where Andrea and three other first years were standing. 

“WATCH OUT!” shouted Andrea, shielding her face with her arms and starting to run.

It was too late. She smelled it before she felt it. It was cold and there was a very strong smell of decaying foliage and fish. As the entrance hall filled with students, people around her tutted sympathetically while others cackled cruelly. 

When she looked up, Peeves had already zoomed off, and Andrea was covered head to toe with what appeared to be sludge from the shallows of the black lake. Her stomach turned. 

A fifth year Slytherin boy, Draco Malfoy, surrounded by five other delinquents called out at her. 

“How  _ fitting _ !” drawled Malfoy, “Nice one Peeves! Now she smells like her filthy muggle father.” The other Slytherins in his group hooted with laughter as they descended the stairs to the dungeons. 

Andrea was scorching with fury, and her head felt fuzzy with rage as she stood by the three Ravenclaw first years who also were drenched. Roger sprinted over to Andrea and the first years. 

“Tough luck, Andrea.” said Roger, catching his breath and shaking his head. “We’d better get up to the dormitories quickly. Are you okay?” 

Wide-eyed, Roger took a half-step back from Andrea as he took in her livid expression. 

“How about I take the first years up alone, eh?” said Roger. “You take your time…” 

Roger made off up the stairs with the first years towards the Grand Staircase, as the rest of the school proceeded to their dormitories. Andrea tipped back against the nearest wall, and slid down to the floor with her head in her hands. 

She fruitlessly struggled to restrain tears of rage, which were silently streamed down her face. She stared blankly at the wall across from her, trying to pull herself together. 

The sounds from the other students were slowly dying away. She looked up to watch the last trickle of students move up the stairs leaving the entrance hall. Fred and George were among them, chatting merrily with a small group of Gryffindors. George glanced behind him before passing under the stone archway to the Grand Staircase and spotted Andrea. 

“Hey guys! Look, there’s a massive, grubby old garden gnome over there! By the doors!” shouted George, “must’ve wandered in from Hagrid’s cabbage patch.”

Andrea slowly lifted her head from her hands, turned her face towards the crowd, and scorched George with a look of utter unhinged-fury.

“Blimey,” said Fred with a wavery chuckle, “That was Andrea, George.”

George gulped. 

“I’ll… I’ll meet you all back in the dormitory,” said George, grimacing in embarrassment and turning back towards Andrea. “I’ve got to do something real quick.” 

The others headed onwards, sniggering softly, and George strode towards Andrea and plopped down next to her. 

“Andrea, what  _ happened _ ?” exclaimed George, examining the brown paste on the sleeve of her robes. “I didn’t even see you sitting here at first! Wait – bloody hell! Are you  _ crying _ ?”

Andrea wiped away her tears with a clean corner of her robes. “I’m fine. Really.” said Andrea, sitting up straight.

George raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“Peeves thought it would be funny to toss a bucket of pond scum on the first unlucky person out of the Great Hall.” said Andrea finally after a moment of awkward silence. “And that Malfoy brat decided to take a jab at my father, saying that my dad was also dirty or something like that.”

“Malfoy’s a slimy git.” said George, picking out a rather large water beetle from Andrea’s hair. “And Peeves is a prick too, at that. But you’ve definitely been through worse at this school. You seem more out of sorts than usual. Lean forward if you would – there’s a few more of these little beasties in the back.” 

Andrea slowly shed her haze of fury, and wondered if he was giving her an invitation to open up. She stole a glance at George’s face, which was screwed up in concentration as he tried to detangle another fat beetle from her curls. Andrea took a deep breath and sighed. 

“It’s just – it’s been a  _ very  _ long day.” said Andrea, swallowing the embarrassment that had been rising slowly, as George continued extracting bugs and bits of plant matter from her hair and robes. “First I was late this morning for the train, then you guys had me thinking about Oliver, and then that Umbridge woman showed up, now  _ this.  _ And I’m just so  _ tired. _ ” 

George stood up and helped Andrea to her feet. They slowly made their way to the staircase, leaving debris and muck in their wake. Instead of heading towards the Gryffindor common room, George turned with Andrea towards the path to Ravenclaw tower. 

“Don’t you go the other way?” asked Andrea. 

“Yeah, but you sound like you need someone to talk to, and I’m not in any hurry. Go on then,” said George.

A little surprised, Andrea continued, 

“I just sometimes feel like people don’t see me as worthy of their attention. I was drenched in this sludge and no one in my class stopped to help me. Except you, that is. But it just feels like more of what I was feeling during most of last year with Oliver.

Andrea and George stopped suddenly half-way up the fourth floor staircase as a ghost passed through the wall in front of them and cut them off momentarily. 

“The whole time we dated, I felt like he just saw me as a distraction to keep his mind off of Quidditch stress. I didn’t want to believe it, but it just got worse once he finished at Hogwarts and joined that proffesional team he’s on. He didn’t even bother responding to my letters half of the time, so I eventually stopped writing them, and he didn’t even complain!” 

They were now approaching the doorway which housed the staircase that lead up to Ravenclaw Tower, and they slowed their pace down as they drew near. 

“Fred thinks that I left Oliver for that Durmstrang guy that I went to the ball with, but that’s not it at all.” said Andrea with frustration. “I dumped him  _ before _ the ball because he wouldn’t go with me. He said that he had too much on his mind. I hadn’t seen him in months. It was the last straw, so I wrote him back to let him know that I wouldn’t be needing him after all and that he could bugger off!”

George snickered quietly at Andrea’s profanity, then suddenly turned to face her, blocking the doorway. 

“Nah, Andrea. I hear you and I get why you feel that way, but I don’t reckon that you’re right about people not noticing you. In fact, I notice you all the time!” said George, laughing and running a hand nervously through his hair. “Wood could have been dating a veela, and he wouldn’t have cared enough to spend time with her! The bloke would probably rather strangle himself with snarfalump tentacle rather than give up Quidditch. His priorities are all mixed up.”

George watched as Andrea swayed uncomfortably on the spot. She was feeling more and more self-conscious about her stench and appearance. 

“You know you’re too good for him anyway,” said George, looking Andrea straight in the eye. 

“I don’t know… Maybe so…” said Andrea, blushing slightly, still dripping with stinking mud. 

“You’re  _ way  _ smarter than him. People like you more too. Blimey, I’ve never heard anyone say a  _ word _ against you come to think of it!” said George. 

He looked down at her, suddenly with a very different air, and said in a low tone, “You’re much cooler than him too.” 

George took a slow, deliberate step towards Andrea. He was very close now – one more small step and they’d be only an inch or two apart. So close that Andrea imagined that she could feel his warmth softly emanating from him. She was paralyzed, unable to will herself to break eye contact in spite of her nerves. 

She was so taken off-guard that she forgot to worry about how very strongly she must smell from this distance. 

“Wood…he’s an  _ idiot. _ ” said George softly, carefully moving a stray lock of hair from Andrea’s face with the tip of his finger. He stared down into her face, his eyes passing from her eyes to her full, russet-red lips. His eyes lingered there for a moment, then flicked back up to her eyes and smiled playfully. 

“Maybe it’s selfish of me,” said George suddenly baking a few paces from Andrea, grinning mischievously. “But I’m kinda glad Wood’s such a dingbat…” 

At this George winked teasingly, waved goodbye to Andrea, and trotted back down the corridor, leaving Andrea standing there dumbfounded and filthy. 

  
  



	3. The High Inquisitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 9/28/2020

Andrea crept into the wide, circular common room, and glanced around for stragglers. On a more average day, Andrea would have probably spent the rest of the evening enjoying the peace and quiet of the empty common room with its elegant arched windows, evenly spaced along the walls, which were hung with blue-and-bronze silks. 

She would have leaned back comfortably by the fire and gazed up at the domed ceiling, which was painted like the night sky, or out one of the many windows at the Forbidden Forest, the greenhouses, the Black Lake, or at the Quidditch pitch. Maybe she would have even picked out a book from the Ravenclaws’ mini library that was located in a niche on the wall. 

Tonight, however, Andrea dashed through the common room to the showers. She did not desire to be seen or to discuss her appearance with anyone. After a hot shower, Andrea’s body was aching for her soft, warm bed. She crept quietly up the spiral staircase that lead to the girls’ dormitories. 

She reached the landing to the seventh year girl’s dormitory and quietly tip-toed into the dark room towards her four-poster bed. She peeked out the window between Eliza’s bed and hers and spied poor Hugin sleeping on the windowsill with his head tucked underneath his wing. She opened the window, picked him up, and set him on his perch in the open cage which sat on her bedside table. 

Andrea curled into bed, drew shut her velvety blue curtains, and was absorbed by complete darkness. She nuzzled her soft feather pillow and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to take her. It did not. Her body felt like lead, but her mind was restless. 

Not thirty seconds after closing her eyes, she saw George’s face in her mind’s eye. What was happening? She had always suspected that George might have fancied her a little bit ever since they first became better friends three years ago, but she certainly did not consider that George took her seriously enough to have true feelings for her. 

In fact, Andrea had never considered him as an option at all. She had always found him attractive and interesting, but he and Fred were just so different from her. They both were hugely popular and were constantly accompanied by all the most well-known people in the school. 

It also was widely known that both twins did not value school, while Andrea could easily be considered one of the most achieved students at Hogwarts. What’s more, the twins had also made the match between Oliver and her. 

After tonight, however, there could be no explaining away George’s behavior. For a moment by the stairs, Andrea thought that George was going to kiss her, and, lying there staring upward into the darkness, she couldn’t help imagining what that would be like. 

Andrea’s stomach did several somersaults. She shook herself and smothered her face with her pillow, groaning. She didn’t have time for late night fantasies about George. 

Tomorrow, she would have to wake up early for classes. If she stayed awake imagining what he might think about her and considering all of the possible outcomes of a hypothetical romantic relationship with him, she wouldn’t get any sleep. Despite her annoyance at these inconvenient emotions, she couldn’t help but feel an electric excitement creeping up on her in the darkness. 

She angrily flung open her curtains and dug in the drawer of her bedside table. She fumbled around for a small vial, which she extracted, yanked out the cork, and took a small sip of the Sleeping Draught potion that she had left there for occasions such as these. She immediately felt a wave of sleep wash over her, yawned, and was fast asleep by the time her head hit her pillow. 

Around seven in the morning, Andrea was shaken awake by Jamie, and reluctantly extracted herself from her feather mattress. Hugin croaked impatiently, nails clacking on the stone windowpane as he hopped up and down in place and tapped his beak on the glass to be let out. Andrea opened the window, and watched as Hugin flew off towards the Dark Forest. 

A short while later, Andrea sat in the Great Hall eating a bowl of porridge, still half-asleep, when Professor Flitwick approached the Ravenclaw table to pass out schedules to the Ravenclaws. Andrea thanked Flitwick as he handed her the last Hogwarts schedule that she would ever receive. 

Just as she picked up the piece of parchment to read it properly, someone sat down next to her.

“Morning, Andrea,” said George with a cheeky grin, “I just got my schedule. Can I see yours?”

As she dared to look at George’s face, a wave of heat then icy-cold passed over her. She felt her color rising and could feel herself break into a cold sweat under her robes. It was going to be quite difficult to interact with him for a while. She couldn’t help but remember her fanciful thoughts from last night, and it felt as though it was painted on her face.

“Well, I actually hadn’t gotten a chance to read mine yet,” she said as casually as she could. “Let’s see… today I have Advanced Potions first, then Advanced Charms, then Advanced Arithmancy, and tomorrow I’ve got Advanced Transfiguration in the morning, then Advanced Ancient Runes III, and seventh year Herbology in the afternoon.” 

Andrea felt her blush diminish as she focused reading through her classes, but she stomach did a little wiggle when she looked back up at George’s face. He had been watching her, but it didn’t appear that he had been listening.

“May I?” said George, picking up her schedule and reading through it himself. “Wicked! I’ve got Herbology at the same time as you.

“Wow, you’re taking some tough classes,” said George, shaking his head as if he were trying to rid himself of a particularly unpleasant memory. 

Andrea and George looked towards the double doors as Jamie, Eliza, and Roger walked towards them. George stood up as they approached.

“Well,” said George, “better you than me! I’ll see you around then? 

“By the way,” said George, in an impish undertone, turning back towards her, “Fred and I  _ may _ be selling certain merchandise later on this afternoon that I suspect will give Filch a bad case of the collywobbles. 

“If you have any academic interest in our genius, feel free to drop by the courtyard by the library after lunch. Just don’t tell your prefect friends,” said George pointedly as Roger, Jamie, and Eliza approached the table. 

George strolled back towards the Gryffindor table, and Andrea turned her attention to her friends who were staring at her suspiciously. Eliza, a short, curvy witch with a chestnut-brown bob and glasses, hurried up to Andrea and gave her a tight squeeze. 

“Hey Andrea,” said Eliza, “It’s been too long!”  
“Don’t tell us _what_ now?” said Roger indignantly, snatching up several pieces of toast onto his plate. 

“ _ I _ have a better question,” said Eliza slyly, pushing her glasses up the brim of her nose and leaning forward across the table. 

“Is there  _ something _ going on here that you aren’t telling us Andrea?” whispered Eliza, looking from Andrea to the Gryffindor table and back. 

Andrea looked down at the remnants of her porridge, stirring it mindlessly with her spoon.

“No,” lied Andrea. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the typical Weasley tricks. He just likes to show off, that’s all.”

“ _ Right _ ,” said Jamie, exchanging a meaningful look with Eliza, “but it’s not  _ him _ who’s acting out of the ordinary.”

Andrea glared at the pair and took a long drag from her goblet of pumpkin juice. 

“Alright!” said Eliza hotly, “It’s not  _ our _ business! We just noticed that you were getting all pink while George was over here laying it on thick when we were walking up.”

“No judgement from us though,” said Jamie quickly, glancing quickly at Eliza, “It’s been a while since you’ve dated someone and from your letters it sounds like you’ve been stressed out lately so we figured this was a good sign…” 

Jamie broke off, as Andrea’s amber eyes flashed in irritation. 

“Alright,” grumbled Andrea, “there might be a slight  _ something _ emerging between us, but I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m not even sure that it is… I say this only to spare you all the need for any further observations.”

“No need to be so grumpy with them, Andrea,” said Roger, barely glancing up from his toast and coffee, “They just take an interest in your life.”

Andrea rolled her eyes and let out a slow sigh. 

“I’m sorry guys,” said Andrea as lightly as she could, “but you all know me. There are certain things I prefer to keep private. I love you all. Really. Thanks for taking an interest. I promise I’ll keep you all in the loop if anything big comes up.” 

Andrea looked around the hall and decided it was time to get to class. She hugged her friends and said goodbye, then hurried off to the dungeons. 

This year’s Advanced Potions class was smaller than it had ever been, as most seventh years dropped potions if they didn’t receive “outstanding” marks on their OWL’s in their fifth year, and it seemed that at least several more had dropped the course over the summer. Andrea unpacked her potions kit onto her workstation along with her four other classmates.

Professor Snape had not arrived yet, so Andrea took a moment to survey the dark, cool classroom. Snape’s desk and chalkboard were already prepared for the lesson; he had an array of ingredients lined up on the front table, and the chalkboard read, “Felix Felicis.” 

Andrea opened up her textbook, and scanned the instructions. This was an extremely complicated potion, and she was very excited to start. The potion would take all of six months to finish brewing, which meant daily trips to the class storage room to tend to the potion once prepared. 

At nine o’ clock sharp, Professor Snape strode silently into the classroom, his cloak billowing behind him, and stood at the front to face the class. 

“Good morning to you all,” said Snape quietly, “I’m glad to see you all  _ survived _ last year’s festivities…” 

Snape swiftly turned his back to the class and began writing on the chalkboard:

  * _Add Ashwinder egg to a cauldron, then promptly add horseradish and heat._


  * Juice a squill bulb, add to the cauldron and stir vigorously in vertical strokes. 


  * Chop up anemone-like growth from the back of a Murtlap, add to mixture and heat.


  * Add a dash of tincture of thyme and stir slowly clockwise.


  * Grind up Occamy eggshell and add to mixture.


  * Stir slowly 13 times clockwise then heat the cauldron.


  * Add a sprinkle of powdered common rue.


  * Stir vigorously counterclockwise 37 times, then heat the cauldron one last time.


  * Wave wand over potion in a figure of eight and say incantation ‘Felixempra.’



The class quickly copied down Snape’s instructions into their notebooks as he wrote. Snape turned slowly back around and eyed his class.

“As you all know from previous years, I always instruct my advanced students in my  _ systematically _ altered versions of the text potions as I find the textbooks’ instructions….” Snape picked up a Slytherin girl’s book, and sneering at it, snapped it shut, “….lacking.

“Felix Felicis, as you all should know, was invented by Zygmunt Budge in the 16 th century. Its purpose is to give the drinker a temporary streak of improved fortune. Used sparingly and…  _ wisely _ … this potion can be extremely useful,” continued Snape.

“Used foolishly or excessively, this potion is toxic. If brewed with even the  _ slightest _ error, the results are…deadly.” said Snape, scanning the room, lips curling into a thin smile.

“You may begin,” said Snape suddenly returning to his desk, looking down at his papers. “Raise your hand if you require my assistance. Otherwise, silence as usual.” 

Andrea knew Professor Snape well enough to wait at least five minutes after he had delivered his instructions to ask a question, so she busied herself by thinly slicing up her horseradish in the meantime. 

After several minutes, Andrea squinted through the smoke and steam that was gradually filling the room and raised her hand. 

“Yes, Ms. Clearwater,” said Snape, scarcely glancing up from his work.

Andrea hurried up to Snape’s desk and leaned slightly over it. 

“Professor,” Andrea said quietly, looking down at his stoic, pasty face. “I don’t suppose we will be able to  _ keep _ these potions when they are done,  _ will _ we?”

“Perhaps...” said Professor Snape, lips curling into a mildly amused smile, “If you can manage to successfully brew this batch. It is seldom that a student succeeds in producing this potion perfectly.

“However,” said Snape more lightly, “if anyone in this class were to accomplish the task it would most likely be you. I’ve been quite impressed with your performance in the past. I trust you are responsible enough to know how and  _ when _ to use this potion. If you are diligent in tending to your potion these next six months,  _ and _ if I approve your batch, you may keep it.”

Andrea smiled brightly at him. 

“ _ Thank _ you, professor,” she said in a hushed tone glancing back at her classmates who were busily stirring their cauldrons. 

Snape nodded curtly, and Andrea rushed back to her desk and carefully followed his instructions. 

Potions class seemed to fly by, and soon Andrea was headed out the double doors onto the lawn for a short break before her next class.

It was a beautiful, temperate September morning. She flumped down onto a soft patch of grass, looking out onto the vast, icy Black Lake, and pulled a large red apple out of her bag. 

It felt good to be productive, and she was feeling optimistic that her hard work from previous years would pay off in her most difficult school schedule yet.

Andrea threw her head back and closed her eyes, letting the sun hit her face, and drew in a deep breath as a sweet cool breeze passed over her. Hugin flew down from the sky and perched himself lightly on her knee. At that moment, she couldn’t have been more content. 

Charms class went just as well as potions class. She learned how to non-verbally sew a dress from scratch. She even charmed real flowers onto the hem of hers. By the time she sat down for lunch in the Great Hall, she was starving and had nearly forgotten all about her earlier dilemmas. 

After a quick lunch, she hurried out of the Great Hall to try and catch Professor McGonagall in the staff room on her break. As Andrea turned left out of the double doors, she collided face first into George Weasley’s chest. 

George stumbled backwards for a moment and looked down at Andrea with surprise and amusement on his face. She had dropped her things in the crash, and some of her books had fallen from her bag. 

She looked up at George and smiled apologetically. Of all the people she could have run into… George returned her gaze, apparently stunned, and eyed her with an indecipherable expression. 

“Woah there!” shouted Fred, “Look, George, how  _ precious _ ! She’s trying to help us prepare for this Friday’s Quidditch tryouts by pretending to be a Bludger! Looks like you missed, George…” 

“Where’re ya off to so fast Andrea?” asked George, coming to, picking up Andrea’s bag from the floor, and handing it to her. “You skipping lunch, then?” 

“No,” said Andrea, quickly composing herself, “I ate already. I’m off to find Professor McGonagall.”

“ _ Wow! _ ’” said Fred with phony astonishment, “Such a  _ studious _ prefect! I’m almost inspired to skip our lunch too - in the name of higher education.” 

Andrea narrowed her eyes at Fred, who grinned stupidly and batted his eyelashes at her – quite ridiculously, in fact. 

“You’re such a devil,” said Andrea with a small smile that she couldn’t help, “You boys enjoy your meal. See you around.” 

“I try my best!” shouted Fred as Andrea turned for the stairs. “Georgie! Step to man! I’m starved.”

George hadn’t taken his eyes off Andrea, and was watching as she left them. He shook himself, smiled, and, with a final backward glance in Andrea’s direction, bounded off into the Great Hall. 

Minutes later, Andrea caught Professor McGonagall right as she was bustling out of the staff room, grasping a mug of tea and a large scroll of parchment, and was muttering to herself with a slight frown. She was wearing her green tartan robes and small witch hat, her hair scooped into a tight low bun. 

“Oh good! Ms. Clearwater,” said McGonagall, spotting Andrea “Just step right through here for a moment please,” indicating to an empty classroom just ahead. 

“Professor,” said Andrea, “ I just wanted to talk to you about my first—” 

“Yes, yes,” said McGonagall, motioning for Andrea to have a seat and setting down her tea. “I thought as much. I can guess well enough what you would like to suggest. While I do agree that you’re ready, I’m not sure that I can comfortably agree to allow you to attempt your first transformation without Ministry supervision.” 

“I’ve just been thinking that with You-Know-Who coming back, and my dad…. well I thought it might be smarter to do it under the table.” said Andrea, carefully measuring her words and tone. 

McGonagall stared shrewdly at Andrea, as if she were considering her next statement with care.

“I say, I cannot  _ condone _ such transformations at this school.” said McGonagall, finally.

McGonagall tapped all of her fingers on her wand as she held it, frowning into the distance for a moment.

“ _ However,  _ if you are planning on attempting this  _ without  _ my permission,” said McGonagall hesitantly, “I would like you to at least inform me beforehand. Such magic should not be attempted alone.”

McGonagall turned away from Andrea and stood in the classroom doorway, regarding Andrea sternly but with profound care. After a short silence, Professor McGonagall seemed to want to close the subject for the time being. 

“Well, off you go, the bell should ring any moment,” said McGonagall swiftly, and steered Andrea into the hall. McGonagall remained standing in the doorway, shrewdly watching Andrea as she headed down the corridor away from her. “Get to class before you’re late!” 

Andrea had hoped for a less awkward encounter, but she felt that McGonagall had as good as approved her plans. All she had to do now was formulate them, but for now she had to focus on getting to her N.E.W.T. classes. 

After Arithmancy, Andrea joined her friends at the Ravenclaw table at dinnertime, thoroughly exhausted. No one in her group spoke much, as they were all busy stuffing their faces with steak and kidney pie and mashed potatoes. Andrea generally avoided this dish, and went for some bread and cheese instead.

“Oh, I do  _ wish _ they would serve curry sometimes,” groaned Andrea. 

Andrea’s Grandmother was originally a gypsy from India, until she met her grandfather in the Czech Republic on one of her trips and they had emigrated to England back in the thirties. Andrea was used to thoroughly seasoned food and thought most English food was incredibly bland. 

“Your mum’s curry is  _ pretty  _ good,” said Jamie thickly, chewing a large mouthful of pie. 

The friends were just starting on pudding when their attention was drawn to a voice, shouting at them over the babble of conversation in the Great Hall.

“Oi! Oi!!!  _ Oi _ Andrea!” bellowed Fred, grinning terribly as she turned towards his direction. “Would you  _ do _ a bloke if he had a crooked wanker-- _ ARGH _ !”

Pumpkin juice sprayed from Roger’s mouth all over Jamie’s face. 

George had smashed the palm of his hand over Fred’s entire face and twisted it back towards the Gryffindor table. He grimaced apologetically, then turned away himself and appeared to be swearing loudly at Fred, who seemed to find the whole affair highly amusing. 

“ _ WHAT _ the…” said Jamie, wiping pumpkin juice out of her eyes.

Eliza raised both eyebrows at Andrea, then looked dramatically back down at her plate.

“I’m  _ not _ even going to say anything.” said Eliza smugly. 

“You don’t  _ have _ to,” said Roger, snickering quietly to himself. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The remainder of the week passed smoothly, with the exception of periodical rude jokes from Fred and George. Several times during Herbology, George’s hand brushed against hers as they reached for gloves or garden shovels. 

Often, George’s eyes would flick to hers with a wicked grin when he heard someone say something that could be interpreted in a rude or crass way before elbowing Fred and whispering the joke into his ear. 

Andrea spent the weekend with her friends wandering the grounds, and enjoying the last few warm days before Autumn fell upon them. However, no one was quite prepared for what Monday had in store. 

That morning at breakfast, Professor McGonagall grimly informed the school that Professor Umbridge was to become High Inquisitor on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, and all classes were to be personally inspected for quality. 

As September crept on, the students and staff became increasingly tense, as Umbridge would sporadically interrupt classes, clipboard in hand, and probe the professors with senseless questions. By October, rumors of grotesque punishments were running rampant as Umbridge dealt out more and more detentions. 

Fred and George had even invited Andrea to a meeting the first weekend of October where Harry Potter had apparently organized a group for Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring, as Umbridge refused to allow her students to use magic in class. 

They were planning on meeting at the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade during the school’s first visit of the year, but Andrea decided to decline attending the group, as she was already very advanced in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and added that she didn’t even bother to sign up for that year’s class to begin with. 

Instead, Andrea decided to spend her first trip of the year to Hogsmeade with her friends. It turned out to be a quite enjoyable day, as it happened. It was a blustery morning when she, Roger, and the girls set off down the winding path to Hogsmeade Village. 

Andrea thought their long trek well worth the chilly wind as they exited Honeyduke’s Sweet Shop, each carrying rather large paper bags full to the brim with chocoballs, pixie puff’s, ice mice, pepper imps, pink coconut ice, sugar quills, pumpkin fizz, fizzing whizzbees, and, of course, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum. 

Eliza had wanted to spend the afternoon in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, but Andrea preferred the rustic ambiance of her parents' shop over the pink lace doilies at Puddifoot’s, so the group split up. She spent the rest of the day with Roger and Jamie in The Three Broomsticks, cackling wildly over many large rounds of fire whiskey, unwinding from the hectic past month. That evening they met up with Eliza and retired to the Ravenclaw common room for some tea and their Honeyduke’s sweets by a cozy Autumn fire. 

  
  



	4. The Secret Keeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 9/28/2020

As Halloween (Andrea’s birthday) approached, Hogwarts buzzed with anticipation. The Friday before Halloween, Flitwick charmed bats to flutter around the castle and began the process of decorating the Great Hall with floating jack o’ lanterns. A variety of little enchanted colored skulls littered the house tables, snapping at the fingers of any unsuspecting students that might let their hands get too close.

The pumpkins in Hagrid’s garden had grown enormous, despite Hagrid’s absence over the last few months, and were hauled onto the front steps by the great oak doors to the entrance hall. Peeves zoomed in and out of classrooms, hurling handfuls of horrible things including spiders, dried toenails, and even rusty cutlery, at anyone in range, shouting, “Trick or treat, ickle kiddies!” 

Andrea was feeling quite pleased, as her Felix Felicis potion had changed from a light turquoise color to a deep emerald green at exactly the correct timing. The approach of her birthday, Halloween, had also seemed to give her a heightened sense of confidence, so she was in a particularly good mood as she strode out of Potions that morning. 

She climbed up from the dungeons to the entrance hall, dodging a rusty serving spoon that Peeves pelted at her as he whizzed by, and headed towards the greenhouse to collect some fresh ingredients. Her supply of squill bulbs in her potion kit was rapidly declining and needed to be refilled. 

Andrea passed Roger who was climbing up the steps on her way out of the entrance hall dressed in his Ravenclaw Quidditch gear. He was surrounded by a number of sixth years girls who were listening, in rapture, to Roger explain his latest Quidditch tactics. He was the Quidditch captain for Ravenclaw and rarely gave anyone a chance to forget it.

“Hey Andrea!” said Roger, jogging over, “How was arithmancy? I’ve been getting some extra practice in before the tryouts this evening.”

“Hi Roger, I’m just headed to the greenhouses for a sec’,” said Andrea, nodding in the direction of the long glass buildings not far away.

“If you aren’t busy after dinner, you should come and watch!” said Roger enthusiastically, “I have a feeling this is going to be our best team yet!” 

The three sixth years, two Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff, had been exchanging meaningful looks as she and Roger spoke, and were now brazenly glaring at her from behind Roger. 

“Yeah, I might!” said Andrea, ignoring the girls’ indiscreet attempts at intimidation. “I’ll meet you in the Great Hall in a few.”

Andrea waved goodbye, made down the stone steps, and strode across the cool, dewy grass towards Greenhouse 6. When Andrea slipped in, she was immediately enveloped by an earthy, warm vapor that made her imagine a rainforest in a far off land. 

Slowly, she strolled by the long table that served as a workstation for students during the day and ran her hand across the warm, moist soil which was ready and waiting for new seedlings to peep out from its surface. 

On either side of the green house, a wide variety of magical plants were swaying and groping at Andrea as she passed. Andrea jumped back as several bowtruckles (ferocious tree spirits), grunting barbarically, pelted sharp shards of bark at her legs when she passed too closely to their crate. 

Andrea slowed as she approached the storage room in the back of the greenhouse, but she stopped short at its glass door. She could hear two hushed voices coming from behind the door. Andrea got the feeling that she would be interrupting something personal if she entered now, so she was just considering coming back at a later time when she heard a familiar voice that made her pause. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you as much of my time lately, but I just have been  _ so _ busy,” said a familiar female voice in a tender, comforting tone. 

“I know, but I really do  _ wish _ we didn’t have to sneak around like this, it would be so much easier to spend more time together if we could at least be together around your friends,” groaned a second female voice. 

“You know how I feel about  _ that _ , Lexi,” said the familiar voice, “I don’t want to tell them. They don’t  _ need _ to know anyways. This is between  _ us. _ ” 

“It’s just been too long since…we’ve been… _ close _ ,” said the second girl quietly. 

Andrea backed away from the door slowly, trying her best to be as silent as possible. She certainly did  _ not _ wish to hear any more of this, and she shuddered to think what the girls would think if they found Andrea lurking outside their private space. 

“I want to feel your  _ touch _ ,” said the unfamiliar, sultry voice, “Come, hold me, Eliza. Kiss me. Kiss me like you did in the forest.” 

Andrea halted, frozen with shock. Eliza? Eliza who had been badgering  _ her _ constantly about not keeping secrets. Treating  _ her  _ like she was ridiculous for dating and being interested in people.

Andrea was overcome by a driving need to know if this was  _ the _ very same Eliza who patronized her on a regular basis and made her feel like a lousy friend. Giving in to her curiosity and outrage, she threw open the door to the storage room.

There she was. Eliza, tangled in the arms of a tall Slytherin girl. It was several moments before they noticed that something had changed, and by the time that they noticed the open door, Andrea was at the other end of the greenhouse about to exit the front door. As she turned to shut it, Andrea shot a glance behind her and met Eliza’s wide eyes.

Andrea glared at the horrorstruck Eliza.

“A bit hypocritical? Don’t you  _ think _ ?” barked Andrea.

Andrea slammed the greenhouse door, causing the glass to quiver dangerously, and strode back up to the castle. The brisk cold air sharpened her emotions. 

No, she wasn’t mad that Eliza was secretly gay. What did she care? If she didn’t want her to know that,  _ fine _ . It didn’t make a difference to Andrea. Nor was she angry that Eliza was seeing someone without telling her. 

Andrea  _ was _ furious upon remembering the smug, superior, judgmental comments that she had received from Eliza regularly during her time with Oliver and during her interactions with every other male she came into contact with - besides Roger. 

She could never stand the way Eliza would shake her head disapprovingly as Andrea would write private letters to Oliver. Andrea had even specifically mentioned to Eliza that she did not like the way she looked at her when George gave her attention several nights ago. 

It wasn’t right for Eliza to keep saying that Andrea was becoming a distant friend by keeping secrets when Eliza herself was doing the very same!

Andrea stomped into the Great Hall and flumped down next to Jamie and Roger, who both immediately stopped talking and stared at her. 

“What happened?” said Jamie nervously, a chunk of sweet potato falling off her motionless fork. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” said Andrea, piling several rolls onto her plate.

Roger and Jamie exchanged a meaningful look and turned their attention to their food. 

“Alright, you lot,” said Jamie, standing up a little later, “I’ve got a lot of homework for Muggle Studies, so you’ll have to let me know how tryouts go later.” 

As Jamie hurried out of the Great Hall, Roger turned to Andrea wearing a stern expression.

“Do you still feel up to coming to tryouts,” said Roger, but cut her off before she could answer, “I really think you  _ should _ come – to get your mind off of whatever it is that has you so riled up.”

Andrea sighed. 

“Yes, I suppose I’ll come,” said Andrea, pressing her fingers into her temples, trying to rub away her post-rage headache.

After dinner, Roger and Andrea descended the grassy slope to the Quidditch pitch. Andrea had spent way too much time there two years ago with Oliver, but she still always felt a little thrill as she climbed into a seat in the lofty bleachers that overlooked the fluffy green grass and the golden goal posts of the Quidditch pitch. 

Andrea watched the Ravenclaws, in their royal blue Quidditch robes, gather on the field below and kick off the ground with their brooms. She gazed off into the distance, brooding about the injustices of the world when a younger boy, trying out for the Beater position, accidentally lobbed a Bludger straight at Andrea, nearly blasting off her head as she dove backwards out of the way and causing her to almost fall out of the bleachers. 

“That was a  _ close _ one,” said Fred, seeming to appear out of thin air on the bleachers behind her with George beside him. “Nice dodge! No wonder you never played Quidditch! Wood would’ve never let you  _ near _ Ravenclaw tryouts if he saw those cat-like reflexes. I’m sure he didn’t let ‘em go to waste though.” 

Fred waggled his eyebrows obscenely. 

“What are you boys  _ doing _ here?” asked Andrea contemptuously, “come to  _ spy _ ? We are going to win this year, you know, so it’ll make no difference.”

“Is that  _ so _ , Clearwater?” said George, raising an eyebrow mockingly as he hopped onto the bench beside Andrea. “Don’t bet on it. You know Gryffindor’s got better odds, especially with two blades like us on the team! Not to mention Harry. The best you all can hope for is second place in the cup this year – if  _ we’ve  _ got anything to do with it.”

Andrea rolled her eyes dramatically, her spirits lifting with the inter-house rivalry. While George chatted with Fred about Quidditch and made some rude comments about the players below, Andrea suddenly noticed that he was sitting quite close to her. Their shoulders brushed slightly, and she was suddenly quite aware of how close her backside was from his. 

George turned towards Andrea, looking slightly smug, as if he had sensed her tensing beside him. She supposed he could probably guess the reason. George briefly put his hand in the small space between them, touching her thigh with the side of his hand as he pushed himself up to standing.

“Fred, shall we be off?” said George grinning eagerly at his twin, “Don’t we have some  _ business _ with Mr. Filch this evening?”

“We do indeed, George!” said Fred, leaping up, then turning to Andrea ``We're about to test out or Puking Pastels! Never tried them on anyone but ourselves, so this should be fun to watch. Care to join?” 

“ _ No, _ thank you.” said Andrea, directing her attention back to the Ravenclaw team, where Cho Chang was demonstrating her seeker skills to a third year who was trying out against her. 

“I hope you both know that what you are doing is rather unethical, even if it  _ is _ Filch,” said Andrea without looking back at the twins, “I really would prefer to not have to confiscate your bag of goodies tonight.”

“Right you are, Andrea! That it would be,” said George mischievously, “That’s why  _ we  _ aren’t going to give it to him!  _ Peeves _ will!” 

Andrea snapped around to glare at the twins, but the pair had already sped off to the stairs leading down to the field. The sun was now setting and the Quidditch team was packing up their things below. It wasn’t long before Roger jogged up the stairs to the stands and over to Andrea.

“Well, that went pretty well I think!” said Roger brushing back his sweaty blonde hair and propping his feet up on the bench in front of him. “I feel good about Cho this year too. She seems like she’s more focused. You feeling any better now?”

Andrea sighed deeply, gazing over at the sun that was now setting behind the emerald tree tops of the Dark Forest. Owls were circling out of the owlery in the distance, waking up to hunt. She spotted Hugin flying out of the Dark Forest back towards the castle.

“Yes,” said Andrea finally, “I think so. I’m still a bit upset though I suppose, but I’ve calmed down.”

“What happened, Andrea?” asked Roger, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you that fired up. And when you’re angry like that you usually are pretty eager to tell us about it. What’s going on?”

Andrea hesitated.

“It’s…Eliza,” said Andrea, glancing over at Roger who was silently focused on picking at a rather large blister on his left palm. 

“Roger  _ please _ don’t tell anyone,” said Andrea quietly, “It’s not really my business to say anything.”

“I won’t, you know that,” said Roger, shrugging, still prodding his bulging blister. 

“I caught Eliza  _ snogging _ a sixth year Slytherin girl in the greenhouse earlier.”

Roger stopped picking his blister for a moment, then promptly resumed. 

“Interesting,” said Roger softly, “I’m not all that surprised she kept it secret though. Not everyone around here is very accepting of same sex couples.

“Come to think of it,” said Roger, abruptly looking up at Andrea, “I’m  _ surprised _ at you, Andrea. I would never have guessed that you were prejudiced against lesbians!” 

“Of  _ course _ I’m  _ not _ !” growled Andrea, glaring at Roger, “Can you not understand  _ why _ I would be angry?? She’s been giving me a hard time for  _ weeks _ now about George! And Oliver before  _ that _ ! She acts like I’m a  _ terrible _ friend for not letting her in on my every thought, but she is hiding her relationship from her best friends?

“I don’t  _ mind _ if she wants to keep this private,” said Andrea more calmly, “I understand that need well enough. I just can’t  _ stand _ the hypocrisy!”

Roger regarded Andrea silently for a moment. 

“Why does this  _ bother _ you so much?” asked Roger, breaking the silence.

“I know, I  _ know _ ,” he said, holding up a hand to stop Andrea from snapping at him, “but we  _ all _ know what Eliza is like. She’s… well… a bit anal, to be perfectly frank. Hypocrisy is nothing new from her, and you weren’t always so bothered by it. Something has changed…

Andrea said nothing, and watched the final rays of sun disappear behind the forest.

“It’s George, isn’t it?” said Roger, unconcernedly. 

Andrea shot a glance at Roger, and looked back into the distance, biting the tip of a fingernail.

“I thought so,” said Roger, calmly. “Why haven’t you asked him out yet? I don’t remember you being so reserved about starting up with Wood.”

Andrea cautiously turned around on her bleacher and faced Roger. His expression was quite unremarkable. He seemed as though he wanted to help her, but wasn’t particularly invested in the outcome of their conversation. This suited her well enough. 

“I can’t ask him out,” said Andrea, quickly, “even if I  _ wanted _ to – which I’m not sure that I do. The twins have always been flirts. It’s true that George has been giving me a lot more of his attention lately, but that doesn’t mean he has any plan to act. This is a passing fancy for him. Those boys care about their inventions more than anything else. They don’t have time for dating.

Roger stared blankly at Andrea for a moment then tossed his head back and burst out laughing.

“ _ What _ is  _ so _ funny about what I said, may I ask?” snarled Andrea, blushing furiously and narrowing her eyes at Roger.

Roger composed himself after a short moment and looked back at Andrea with watering eyes.

“You are  _ seriously _ oblivious to the shape of things then, aren’t you?” said Roger, incredulously. “Right then, please, do allow me to illuminate this for you. George Weasley has feelings,  _ real _ feelings, for you. Believe it! Or  _ not _ if you prefer, but I’m a man. I can  _ tell _ these things.”

Andrea still felt embarrassed and annoyed, but couldn’t help secretly hanging onto every word.

“Are… are you  _ certain _ ?” said Andrea, failing in her attempt to sound only mildly interested.

“ _ Yes _ , Andrea,” said Roger, tossing up his arms and smiling warmly at her, “And if this is something that matters to you… which I suspect it is… don’t miss this opportunity! It’s our  _ last _ year here, and now is your best chance at making something out of this.

Andrea looked numbly down at her hands in her lap and noticed that she was starting to feel the chilly October breeze penetrate her woolen scarf.

“Also,” said Roger carefully, standing up and stretching, “Don’t be so hard on Eliza. I understand your frustration, but she’s your friend and there’s more than one reason she didn’t tell us about this relationship… especially since she probably worries that we might treat her differently because she’s gay.” 

Andrea and Roger left the Quidditch stands together, hurried back into Hogwarts, and swiftly made their way up to the Ravenclaw common room. Andrea marched up the Ravenclaw girls’ spiral staircase and entered her dormitory. 

Eliza was already there, sitting on the end of her bed staring at the floor. She leapt up as soon as she saw Andrea, and both girls stood staring at each other.

“I’m sorry,” said Andrea and Eliza together. 

Eliza’s glistening eyes widened, and she began spluttering half-formed explanations.

“I… I shouldn’t have said… I just thought… I know you must feel so…” said Eliza quietly, eyes darting back and forth between the floor and Andrea. 

Andrea moved swiftly forward and silenced Eliza with a tight hug. 

“ _ I  _ shouldn’t have burst in there like that,” said Andrea softly, “I overreacted.  _ Please, _ forgive me?”

Eliza burst into tears and flung her arms around Andrea’s neck. After a minute, Eliza leaned back and the girls looked at each other for a moment. Eliza’s dark eyes were still glistening with tears, but she beamed bashfully at Andrea. They soon were both giggling, then laughing hysterically as they embraced and the tension evaporated from the room. 


	5. Birthday Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 10/1/2020

Halloween morning, Andrea woke from a particularly satisfying dream, about eating an entire cauldron of buttery naan bread, with a loud tapping on the window nearest to her bed. Andrea looked at her clock. It was nine-thirty in the morning, and she was alone in the dormitory.

Her birthday was on a Tuesday this year, and Andrea decided to skip classes for the day – as a present to herself. She had completed and handed in her class assignments ahead of time for all the classes on her Tuesday schedule to appease her professors. Luckily for her, she didn’t have Potions on Tuesday. Snape would definitely not be as obliging as her other professors. 

Andrea looked out the window and spotted Siggi, Frida’s tawny owl that Andrea had gifted her many years ago, sitting expectantly on the other side of the glass. Andrea opened the window, and Siggi fluttered in.

“Hey, sweet Siggi. What have you got for me, darling?” asked Andrea, stroking Siggi’s little dusty-brown head and untying a small, green package from her leg. 

Andrea tugged off a letter that was taped to the side of the box, and tore it open.

_ “Dear Andrea, _

_ Happy Birthday!!! 18 years old! I am so excited to go out on the town with you by the way… I miss you terribly and wish I could be there with you on your special day! I’m sorry to hear that Umbridge has been such a pain… Hopefully the Ministry will see sense and replace her with someone better.  _

_ I honestly can say that I’m not very surprised about George. I sort of thought that the two of you would have gotten together by now to be honest – sorry, I know that probably annoys you, but there’s definitely been some chemistry there for a while. Just keep me updated. I’m interested to see how this unfolds.  _

_ I hope you like your present! I picked it out from that shop that you love down by Oak Casket Ale House. I know it’s your last year at Hogwarts, but please come visit during your Christmas holiday. I need my Andrea time!  _

_ Have an excellent Halloween-y birthday for me my witchy woman! _

_ Much Love, _

Frida 

Andrea put down her letter, smiling, and slid the red ribbon off of her present. She reached in the box and picked out a smooth, glossy black raven carved from onyx. She placed the figurine on her bedside table next to Hugin, who was making low croaking sounds at an indifferent Siggi. 

She loved the gift. Later, she planned on enchanting her little stone raven to hop around and caw. Andrea loved an opportunity to practice charming inanimate objects to life. 

Andrea wrote a quick thank-you note, fastened it to Siggi’s dainty ankle, and gently ushered both birds out the window. She quickly got herself ready to go down to the kitchens, as breakfast had undoubtably been cleared off by now. 

Andrea emerged from a secret passage that ended behind a large tapestry of a giant, which was beheading an unfortunate troubadour with his own lute, onto a landing of the Grand Staircase. She stopped for a moment to lean on the banister and watch the hundreds of moving staircases and the painted characters that scuttled from portrait to portrait, chattering incessantly. 

Everything at Hogwarts seemed even more magical on Halloween. She could hear the suits of armer that littered the school creaking and clanking enthusiastically as howling ghosts whirred through the corridors. Andrea’s stomached growled ravenously, so she sped down to the kitchens. 

After a delicious meal of French toast with pumpkin jam, made and served by several over-enthusiastic house elves, Andrea decided to spend the rest of her morning in the library skimming through several large, dusty volumes about animagi and other human transformations. 

Around noon, the bell for lunch rang, so Andrea departed the library to join her friends in the Great Hall. On the way down, Andrea nearly ran into Mr. Filch, the school caretaker. He seemed to be in an especially horrendous mood today, and he still looked a little green from whatever terrible prank Fred and George had set on him the day before. When Andrea rounded the corner, he was sweeping up a large pile of dried toenails, accompanied by his faithful cat, Mrs. Norris. 

Andrea jumped back around the corner to avoid being spotted by him. She knew he would love an excuse to write up a student in his current temperament.

“This is the  _ end _ of that Peeves I tell you. You’ll see my sweet,” Filch grumbled quietly to Mrs. Norris. “Once I hand in my report to Professor Umbridge, it’ll all be sorted.”

Fortunately, Andrea knew another way to the Great Hall, and before long, she was leaping down the marble staircase to the entrance hall. As Andrea approached the stone archway, an enormous cloud of chittering bats erupted from the Great Hall and swooped up the marble stairs to the Grand Staircase. 

Andrea entered the Great Hall and hurried over to where her friends were sitting – they appeared to be waiting for her, all beaming as she approached.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” exclaimed Jamie, jumping up and giving Andrea a tight squeeze, then shoving Andrea down into her seat. “Sit down and open your presents!” 

The three had already made up a spot for her at the table where a large cauldron cake with a lit candle poking out the top, surrounded by their gifts, waited for her. 

Andrea happily blew out her candle and thanked everyone. Andrea opened Roger’s gift first, which he had enthusiastically thrust towards her. Inside an enormous, heavy black box was a brand new cauldron, in which he had stuffed an assortment of her favorite treats. 

“It’s self-stirring!” said Roger, “All you have to do is tap it with your wand and give it directions! Brilliant, right?”

“I  _ love  _ it Roger!” said Andrea, hugging Roger to the annoyance of the Gryffindor girls from Friday, who had been watching the whole exchange from the table behind them. “That was so thoughtful!” 

Andrea didn’t tell Roger, but Professor Snape would certainly  _ not _ approve of a self-stirring cauldron, but she could still use it at home after she was finished at Hogwarts.

She opened Eliza’s present next. It was a planner that updated with every year, and once you had completed a task, it would disappear on its own.

Lastly, Jamie had given Andrea a new pair of leather witches boots that fastened all the way up to the knee. The laces were embellished with little black charms of bats, spiders, and human skulls. 

“Thank you all  _ so _ much!” said Andrea beaming, “You all really do know how to make me feel special.” 

“These came for you too earlier,” said Eliza, pushing several packages over. “They’re from your parents, your gran, and  _ Penelope. _ ” 

Andrea’s parents gave her several books on Advanced Charms for adult wizards, and her grandmother sent a colorful box of assorted homemade Indian and British treats. Penelope sent her a box of new quills along with an application for the Ministry of Magic. Andrea sighed and stuffed the application, along with the rest of the letters from her family, into her bag. 

“What was in that blue package in the dormitory?” asked Jamie eagerly. “Was it from Frida?”

“What? What blue box?” said Andrea, “No, Frida sent me a little stone raven in a green package this morning.”

“No, there’s definitely a blue box with a gold ribbon on your bed in the dormitory.” said Jamie, “I was just up there about an hour ago. I figured ya must have opened it by now.” 

“I was in the library for a while,” said Andrea, “Someone must have put there then. How odd. Did you take a look to see who it was from?” 

“No, I didn’t” said Jamie, “Run back up now and get it so you can open it in front of us before lunch ends!!”

“Alright then!” said Andrea, brightly. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Andrea had only walked a few paces towards the double doors, when Fred and George leapt from their seats at Gryffindor table and jogged over to her.

“Happy birthday to my favorite prefect of all time!” said Fred winking and beaming at her, giving her a high five and a large tan sack. “Wow! You’re actually looked like you might’ve aged a bit since I last saw you, as a matter of fact.”

“Happy birthday Andrea,” said George, unexpectedly pulling her into a brief embrace which left Andrea rather flustered. George hadn’t ever actually hugged Andrea, so she wasn’t used to being touched by him. 

“Er, thanks guys,” said Andrea. Fred gave George an odd smirk, bit the corner of his bottom lip, then looked over his shoulder to hide a smile. She quickly turned her attention to the large sack in her hands.

“What’s this, then?” said Andrea, eager to turn their attention to something else. 

“ _ That _ is only our first  _ ever _ full sample pack of all of our latest and greatest products!” said Fred eagerly, “Now  _ this _ here, this is a ton-tongue-taffy. It’s cool cuz when someone eats it they – ”

“Hey Andrea,” said George suddenly, cutting Fred off midstream, and looking her quite directly, “You have any plans tonight?

Fred stared at George like he had never seen him before in his life. He apparently wasn’t used to being interrupted so boldly by George…

“Fred and I are bringing up some butterbeer from Hogsmeade tonight after dinner, and we’re having a bit of a party if you wanna come.”

“Yeah!” said Fred, regaining himself after a moment. “Definitely! Come on over! We’ll hook you up with the password so long as you don’t rat on us.”

“Er, well… Ravenclaw hasn’t got anything like that going on tonight,” said Andrea after glancing back at her friends who were all staring at them – all appearing to be quite entertained. She thought briefly about her conversation with Roger the other day. 

“Sure, why not?” said Andrea, forcing herself to sound relaxed, “When should I show up? It’s behind a portrait of the Fat Lady right? I’m not sure that I know where that is.”

“Just come up to the seventh floor after the feast tonight,” said Fred animatedly, “We’ll let you in if you give a shout. Or maybe just follow us up after dinner.”

“Okay…”said Andrea uncertainly, “I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed in there, maybe I should just…”

“Nonsense!” said Fred, cutting her off, “Anything is possible if you know the right people!”

Without further ado, the twins sauntered off back to their table, but George quickly glanced back at Andrea before taking his seat. 

Andrea decided not to risk a look back at her friends’ faces as she left the Great Hall. She could already imagine them clearly in her mind. 

Andrea hurried up the spiral staircase to her dormitory, and rushed over to her four-poster. On the end of her royal blue feather mattress was a decent-sized box, of nearly the same blue as her bed, and was wrapped with a gold ribbon, just as Jamie had said. She looked at the label, which read:

“ To: Andrea

From: George Weasley ”

Andrea’s stomach lurched.  _ How _ had he gotten this into Ravenclaw Tower? Had he been in her room and seen enough of it to realize which bed was hers? No. He must have asked a Ravenclaw to do it for him. She hoped…

Hands trembling slightly, Andrea untied the golden bow at the top of the box, and slid off the lid. Inside there was a set of bangles, just like the ones she would typically wear to Indian parties, but they were Ravenclaw blue and bronze. Andrea examined them closer and noticed that each bangle had small letters that magically bobbled around the circumference. 

“रविन्क्लेव,” it read. 

It read, “Ravenclaw,” in Devanagari, Hindi script. Andrea’s hand moved slowly up to her mouth, as she stared down at George’s gift. She dabbed the corner of her left eye with her robes, and tried them on. Smiling, she flumped back onto her bed and stared at the bangles that danced and tinkled on her wrists. 

It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask Andrea “what she was,” as people had a hard time pinpointing her ethnicity just by looking at her. It was no wonder, as her background was quite diverse: English, Indian, and Czech. 

Her pale skin and freckles came from her English father, while her full lips and black hair had come from her half–Indian mother. Her unusual amber and green eyes, she inherited from her fully-Indian grandmother on her mother’s side.

Andrea could also speak several languages including English, Czech, French, and Hindi; however, very few people were aware of this, and even fewer understood how important her Indian identity was to her. Her mother was the matriarch of her family, as was her mother’s mother before her, so Indian culture had very much still been a part of Andrea’s culture and identity despite her other backgrounds. 

George had hit a soft spot. Andrea couldn’t believe how thoughtful his gift was, and as she gazed at the sparkling letters on her Ravenclaw bangles, she couldn’t think of any item in her possession that reflected  _ her _ more. 

As she descended the spiral staircase from the girls’ dormitories and settled down in a royal blue armchair which faced a window by the library niche. Andrea wondered where he had found bangles like these. How had he known that she would be able to read Devanagari? He must have put a lot of thought into her gift. Bangles were never very expensive, but to her his gift was invaluable. 

Andrea decided the best way to settle her nerves, for her visit to the Gryffindor common room, was to spend the rest of the afternoon before the feast reading by an open window near the fire. The cool breeze swept in the scent of the grounds. Andrea loved listening to the occasional sounds of owls and other nameless beasts that echoed across the castle walls. Andrea was about a quarter way through re-reading  _ Moste Potente Potions,  _ by Phineas Bourne, when students began trickling into the common room. 

Classes must have ended, Andrea headed upstairs. Andrea decided to use a little extra makeup for the feast, so she hurriedly began smarting herself up in her mirror. 

She had just found a pair of golden earrings, shaped like triangles with lapis lazuli orbs that dangled in the center of each, when Jamie and Eliza came ambling noisily into the room with Holly and Kate. 

“Hey Andrea,” said Holly, “I haven’t seen you all day. Everything okay?”

Holly and Kate were the other two seventh year Ravenclaw girls in Andrea’s year, but the two were best friends and they seemed to prefer to keep to themselves. 

“ _ I  _ was just wondering the same thing!” said Jamie with mock outrage. “You never came back at lunch like you said you would! Also,  _ what _ is that  _ amazing _ smell?”

“Which question do you want answered first?” laughed Andrea. “Firstly, I decided to relax in the common room for the afternoon – sorry I didn’t come back. I got distracted.” 

Jamie’s eyes caught Andrea’s jingling bangles and she opened her mouth to speak, but Andrea continued.

“As for the smell,” said Andrea, combing mascara into her long lashes, “it’s called  _ La Déesse.  _ My mum got it for me. It’s got top notes of lavender, heart notes of rose and jasmine, and base notes of cedar and vanilla.

“It’s pretty strong – just a couple dots do the trick,” said Andrea, indicating to a small burgundy bottle with a crystal stopper. “Anyone want some?”

“Sounds a little  _ fancy _ for me,” said Jamie with a cheeky smirk, “Anyways I reckon you’re probably trying to catch someone’s eye tonight, by the look of it. I don’t want to steal your thunder.”

“I don’t think she needs to try very  _ hard _ to catch anyone’s eye,” said Eliza, smiling deviously. “I think _ I’ll _ try a bit of your perfume, Andrea, if you don’t mind. Ooo! It does smell  _ sensual. _ ” 

“ _ Speaking _ of which, what were you talking about with the twins?” asked Jamie suspiciously. “It looked to me like an  _ interesting  _ conversation.”

Andrea turned back towards the mirror, tossing and teasing her black waves. 

“They invited me to a Halloween party that they’re throwing in the Gryffindor common room.” said Andrea, glancing at the girls’ faces in the mirror.

All four were gaping at her. 

“Good luck to  _ them _ !” said Kate derisively, “As if they can get away with  _ that _ with Umbridge on the loose.”

“Are you going?” said Jamie, excitedly. 

“You should  _ definitely _ go, Andrea.” said Eliza to everyone’s surprise. Eliza had given Andrea a pretty hard time about George up until now… 

Eliza quickly busied herself with fastening her boot buckles. 

“I’m considering it,” said Andrea, slipping on her new knee-high leather witch boots, and was ready to go down to the Halloween feast. “Actually, I  _ told _ them that I would, but I’m not entirely sure it will happen. I’m ready to go when you all are.”

After a few more minutes of chattering, Andrea and the girls met up with Roger in the common room, and they all hurried down to the feast. 

“Wicked boots, Andrea!” said Roger, giving Jamie a wink and a thumbs up. 

“Shame you can’t see the whole boot with these long robes covering them,” said Jamie, as they waited for the staircase they were descending to come to a stop. “They’ll look even better with those purple and black robes you’ve got at home. The ones that are shorter in the front and longer in the back?”

“They’re  _ perfect _ , Jamie,” said Andrea. 

A strange nervousness was building in the pit of her stomach the closer they got to the loud feast, which they could hear all the way from the fifth floor landing of the Grand Staircase. 

Before long, the friends had entered the crowded Great Hall, and sat down before the largest array of food and sweets Andrea had seen at Hogwarts yet. Andrea happily noticed that Umbridge was not at the staff table. The prissy hag probably didn’t _even_ like Halloween.   
Andrea, Roger, and the girls laughed and talked merrily as they devoured everything in front of them. Orange streamers floated around the Great Hall like great serpents, and the jack o’ lanterns swayed as ghosts and hordes of bats zoomed around them. 

Dumbledore had arranged for a live band of enchanted dancing skeletons to entertain the students. They would pop up unexpectedly from under the tables, making Eliza shriek and nearly fling her candied apple across the room. 

“Psst!” said Jamie leaning across the table, wagging her eyebrows, “Andrea,  _ he  _ keeps looking at you!”

Andrea couldn’t help herself. Slowly turned around to face where the twins usually sat. George was having a heated discussion with Fred and a fifth year called Dean Thomas, but as Andrea watched, George stole a side glance at Andrea.

George jumped slightly as he noticed her watching, then smiled, raising an eyebrow at her, then continued his debate with Dean as if nothing had happened. Andrea turned back to her plate, smiled to herself, and dug into her apple tart. 

The feast ended grandly with the school ghosts performing a bizarre song. It sounded a lot like a combination of fingernails on a chalkboard and the boiling of a variety of both large and small animals in a cauldron of hot tar. This left the students chilled and ready to retire to their firesides by the time they were dismissed for the evening. 

As Andrea got to her feet, she spotted Fred and George beckoning her to follow them out of the double doors to the entrance hall.

“Bye guys,” said Andrea, “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

Andrea ran up to the twins who were waiting by the double doors.

“Come on then!” said Fred, smiling and speeding off towards the Grand Staircase with George at his side. “We’ve already got most of everything set up, so we can get started as soon as we’re there! Andrea, my friend, you’re about to see how much  _ better _ Gryffindors are at having a good time than the other houses.”

The three climbed all the way up to the seventh floor landing, sped behind a tapestry, down a series of passageways, and out onto another landing and down corridor that ended at a wall where a large portrait of a plump woman wearing a pink gown hung. 

“Password?” asked the pink lady dryly, hardly looking up from her large glass of sherry.

“Mimbulus mimbletonia,” said Fred, standing back as the portrait swung open, then leading the way into a cozy, circular room with many cushy, burgundy armchairs and a roaring fire. The room was already packed with people, and Fred and George busily began unpacking crates of butterbeer onto tables that they must have set up earlier. 

Andrea looked around the room for Ginny, but she was busy having a very serious-looking discussion with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald in a far off corner, so Andrea decided to take a seat on the empty couch by the fire. She tried to catch the eye of several Gryffindors in her year, but all were standing in small groups chatting busily with friends. Andrea decided to take a short rest near the cozy fire, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.

Some twenty minutes of sitting quietly by herself, Andrea peered around a boy who was standing behind her to find that Fred and George were still busy entertaining. George caught her eye, picked up two butterbeers, and pushed through the crowd over to Andrea’s couch. 

“Hey! I was wondering where you got off to!” said George, sitting down next to Andrea and handing her a butterbeer. “I couldn’t see you hiding back here from where I was standing.”

“I’m not  _ hiding _ ,” said Andrea with an edge to her voice, sipping her butterbeer, “It’s just that everyone is too busy to notice me.” 

“Are you having a bad time?” said George, his voice raised so that Andrea could hear him over the hubbub. 

“No,” said Andrea, then looked down at her bangles, “Now that you’re here though, I just wanted to say thanks… I…”

“What? Sorry, you’re gonna have to speak up! It’s mad in here!” said George over the racket. 

“I want to talk to you about something, but I don’t want to shout about it,” said Andrea, louder this time.

George looked down thoughtfully for a second.

“I’ve got it! Follow me!” said George, standing up and leading Andrea past some first years that were bobbing for apples and up a spiral staircase on the right. He lead her up several turns until they reached a door that said, “7 th Years,” much like the dormitory in Ravenclaw Tower. 

Andrea entered the empty dormitory, which looked quite similar to hers except that the four-posters had red hangings instead of blue. George shut the door behind them, and finally Andrea could hear herself think again. 

George jogged over to a window between what appeared to be Fred’s and his beds – judging by the array of sweets that littered their bedside tables. He sat down on the oak floor, grinning and patting a spot next to him on the floor.

“Welcome to our humble abode!” said George, comically gesturing around. “Sit! You can see all the way down through Hagrid’s window there – if you’ve got the right tools.”

Andrea sat down on the floor beside George, and took another gulp of her butterbeer. She looked out onto the grounds below. The view from here was a little closer than at Ravenclaw Tower, but she could definitely see farther from her window.

“So, are you gonna tell me what you were trying to say earlier?” said George, who had apparently been watching Andrea closely.

Andrea wasn’t sure if it had been because of all of the excitement of the feast, or the party, or the thrill of her eighteenth birthday, but somehow Andrea had felt invulnerable to the usual bothersome emotions that would crop up around George… at least until now. 

She hadn’t  _ really _ considered that talking to George in a quiet place would actually involve being  _ alone _ with him. Now she was alone with him – in his dormitory. Next to his bed. Drinking butterbeer.  _ Completely _ alone with him. 

“I just wanted to thank you,” said Andrea, composing her thoughts and looking George seriously in the eye, “I can’t really express how meaningful your gift was to me. So… thank you, George.”

George reached over and gently lifted Andrea’s wrist to better inspect her bangles. 

“It’s no big deal,” said George, shrugging with a smile. “I just saw them in an alumni catalog that mum gets over the summer and thought of you.”

George glanced up from the bangles into Andrea’s eyes, then quickly back down to the bangles.

“I just knew you speak Hindi, and these are for Ravenclaw, so I just reckoned you’d fancy em’.” said George, as nonchalantly as ever, but letting go of her wrist and passing his hand through his hair and looking out the window. 

“You… You thought of me over the summer?” asked Andrea. The skin on her wrist still somehow felt warm from where he had touched her. 

Andrea watched George, who was gazing out into the night sky, swallowing down the remains of his butterbeer. She wasn’t sure why she was more nervous about approaching George in this way than with the other men in her past, but she suspected that some of it might be because she had fancied him for so long and had thought nothing would ever come of it. 

“ _ George _ ,” said Andrea, more loudly. “You didn’t answer me.”

George turned to her, a flicker of apprehension flashed in his eyes for a moment, then he smiled.

“Sure,” he said looking back out the window, his fingers drumming on the floor behind him as he leaned backwards. “I think about you now and then.” 

“I… think about you too sometimes,” said Andrea quietly, stealing a glance at George, who was shifting his weight slightly as he stared out into the night.

“I noticed you’re earrings match your gift!” said George brightly, suddenly turning to Andrea and flashing his typical grin. 

“Yes, I did that intentionally,” said Andrea nonchalantly, and scooted a little closer to George so that they were only sitting an inch or two apart beside each other.

“Look,” said Andrea, turning her head to the side and leaning closer for George to get a better look. “They’re lapis lazuli.” 

Andrea’s heart was pounding in her throat. She knew that she was being bold, but she was beginning to feel as though she was hardly in control of her actions and a braver version of herself had taken the wheel. 

She glanced sideways at George, who was sitting completely motionless, seeming to be concentrated on keeping his eyes perfectly fixed on the blue stone that rested on her ivory jaw. 

“Very… er… _ nice _ …” said George, his voice catching slightly. 

Andrea remained frozen in place, as George lifted a hand to push back a lock of hair behind her ear. Andrea slowly turned her face, now inches from his, and stared into the warm depths of George’s eyes from behind her long black lashes. 

He looked more nervous than Andrea had ever seen him; he sat perfectly still, staring back at her as if he could hardly believe what was happening. His chest rose and fell much faster than it ought to have. 

“Andrea…” sighed George lowly, closing his eyes tightly and giving his head a small shake, as if to relieve some of the building tension. 

“I’m sorry,” said Andrea quietly, looking away.

She had intended on pulling away as well, but it felt like her every atom was ablaze. She looked back at George’s face, his eyes unfocused and his shapely chest rising and falling steadily. 

She suddenly became very aware of the poignant scent of sandalwood and sweet musk emanating from him, and it clouded Andrea’s mind and sent her reeling. 

From Georges slightly parted lips, Andrea caught a wisp of his breath on her face. Something hot churned somewhere deep inside her chest. She tilted her chin up slightly, and resolutely closed the distance between their lips, which seemed to instantly melt together.

George’s hand immediately went to the nape of her neck as he leaned into her, returning her kiss. His lips were warm and soft against hers, but instead of soothing Andrea’s longing, the slow, rocking rhythm of their kiss had quite the opposite effect. 

Andrea, stood up – taking George with her, her mouth still moving steadily against his. She let her tongue flick fleetingly into his open mouth, making George gasp faintly. They bumped into his bedside table, knocking over what appeared to be a very large jar of frog eggs. 

He gently pressed her back against the post of his bed, his hands trembling slightly as he held her by her elbows. Bodies pressed together, Andrea suddenly became conscious of an unmistakable sign that George was as stirred as she was. 

With a practiced adjustment using a finger and a small wiggle of her legs, Andrea stealthily slipped off her underthings and tossed them onto his bed without breaking their kiss. Andrea laced her fingers into George’s ginger hair, deepening their kiss, and suddenly she broke it, pushing him down to sit on the edge of his bed. 

Within moments, Andrea’s lips were back on George’s, but she pulled her robes up to her knees so she could creep onto his lap with a knee on either side of him. 

George’s hands trembled as he gently and uncertainly placed them on the tops of Andrea’s knees while they kissed. His breath was growing increasingly rugged. She rocked her hips slowly side to side so that she could feel his arousal through their robes. 

A low moan escaped from somewhere deep down in George’s throat. At this, Andrea placed her hands on top of his and guided them under her robes and up her silky thighs to press them firmly to grasp her bare hips. 

George suddenly stopped kissing Andrea, and pulled back eyeing her with surprise and exhilaration. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, as if he were about to say something, but Andrea cut him off with her flushed, kiss-plumped lips.

The momentum of their movements increased steadily, and finally, George suddenly drew the deep red curtains of his four-poster and pulled Andrea further onto his bed with his arms around her waist. 

Eager to taste his kiss, Andrea wasted no time sliding her tongue back through George’s parted lips. Suddenly, with a wave wild desire, Andrea pulled up George’s long robes to his waist. George was quick to catch on, and Andrea lowered herself back down onto George’s lap, allowing his body to gradually penetrate hers. 

Andrea couldn’t help but to let a rocky moan as she gave in entirely, bobbing up and down, her eyes tightly closed as she felt her soul euphorically soaring above her. 

George gripped Andrea’s hips tightly over her robes. He pulled himself up to sitting and hungrily kissed her neck, gently biting her ivory skin here and there. 

Arms around George, Andrea could feel the muscles on his back contracting, as he rocked with her, pushing his body upwards inside her. Andrea gave a quiet cry of pleasure, and George’s body tensed, shuddered, and slowed under her. 

George took Andrea’s face in his hands, kissed her softly, and rolled her to lay next to him, wrapping his arms around her. Andrea soaked in the taste of his kiss, his smell, the touch of his skin. 

Suddenly, Andrea heard footsteps coming up the spiral staircase outside the dormitory. Her eyes snapped open, and exchanged a look of panic with George. The footsteps stopped on the landing outside of the door.

“Don’t get your wand in a knot, Jordan!” shouted Fred back down the staircase. “Lemme just check and see if George is in here! He said he would help us empty the last of the crates!”

Andrea jumped off of the bed and dove underneath, just before Fred burst in. 

“Ey Georgie!” pulling back the drapes of George’s bed. “ _ What _ are you  _ doing  _ in here?”

“Er, nothing,” said George hoarsely, “Just resting for a sec.”

“Ohhh I  _ see _ ,” said Fred mockingly, “Just needed to have some  _ alone _ time after hanging out with Andrea, eh? I know how it is! Come on then, we need to empty out the last of the butterbeer – we’re running low!” 

Andrea watched from under the bed as two pairs of feet made their way out of the dormitory. At the doorway, one pair turned back towards the room.

“Come  _ on _ !” shouted Fred, from farther away.

The door to the dormitory shut. Andrea waited for a moment under the bed, heart pounding, and listened hard for any other sign of movement outside. What had she  _ done _ ?

When she was sure that she was completely alone, she shot out from under the bed, ran out of the dormitory, and sprinted down the spiral staircase.

Andrea kept her head down as she pushed through the crowded Gryffindor common room towards the portrait hole. She needed to get  _ out _ , but there were too many people in the way. 

The party was still well underway, and Lee Jordan had decided to break out an enormous bottle of firewhiskey and was urging a rather young-looking boy to down an extremely large round. 

She glanced up as she saw the twins pouring bottles of butterbeer into a gigantic steaming cauldron with a large ladle that was set on one of the tables. George kept glancing over his shoulder to the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Just as Andrea was almost to the portrait hole, George spotted her.

“Hey, Andrea!” George shouted over the noise. “Andrea!  _ Hey _ ! Hold up!”

Andrea turned reluctantly and their eyes met. George set down the butterbeer, and began pushing his way through a pack of particularly chatty girls towards her, but Andrea lowered her eyes, smiled apologetically, then dashed out of the portrait hole and quietly crept back to Ravenclaw Tower. 


	6. Peculiar Potions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: Oct 1, 2020

When Andrea finally arrived back at Ravenclaw tower, the common room was still full of small groups of people chatting by the fire and at the little round, candlelit tables near the windows. Holly and Kate were having a dispute on the correct answers to Professor Bins’ test nearby. 

Jamie, Roger, and Eliza were sitting at a table close to the fireplace, as Andrea quietly slipped through the common room entrance towards the spiral staircase leading to the girls’ dormitory. Half-way across the sapphire rug Jamie spotted her. 

“Hey, Andrea!” said Jamie, standing up from her game of Wizard’s Chess with Roger. “We didn’t think you’d be back so soon – wait up! Where are you going?”

“Oh, hey…” said Andrea, slowing down, turning back, and swaying in place. “Yeah, I was ready to leave, so I came back a little early.”

“How was it, then?” said Roger, putting down his teacup which was decorated with several garden gnomes that were savagely fighting over an old boot in a patch of grass. “Are the Weasley’s parties as  _ grand _ as they say?” 

“Yeah…” said Andrea vaguely, still halfway across the room, “It was definitely not like the parties we have here… They had butterbeer. I don’t know where they got it. It was pretty loud though…” 

“What’s wrong, Andrea?” asked Eliza, peeking over the top of the week’s copy of Witch Weekly. “You sound… distracted.” 

“I’m just really tired,” said Andrea, edging towards the stairs. “Being around that much chatter must have worn me out. I’m going to rest a bit – maybe go to bed.”

“But it’s only nine thirty!” exclaimed Jamie, patting a blue armchair next to her. “Come! Sit and relax with us for a while longer. You’ll feel better.” 

“No, not today. I really need to shower,” said Andrea, “Maybe if I feel better after I’ll come back down.” 

The three friends looked at each other with obvious concern.

“Alright then,” said Jamie, “I hope we see you later. We’re gonna play exploding snap after we finish this game. Join us if you’re up to it! And happy birthday, again!”

“Thanks guys,” said Andrea, heading up the stairs. She really wished she were in the mood to spend the evening with all of them. 

Andrea spent a long time in the shower. She almost considered going down to the prefects’ bathroom for a long soak, but that would mean that she would have to evade her friends again on the way out of the common room.

She sat on the edge of her bed and stared out the window at the dark grounds. The Whomping Willow looked especially foreboding tonight; the moonlight cast severely long shadows from the great tree and the edge of the dark forest onto the lawn below. 

Hugin hadn’t come back yet. He probably was hopping around the empty courtyards looking for scraps of leftover sweets. She dearly hoped that he didn’t find any of the Weasley’s puking pastels. 

Her mind had finally led her back to what she had been trying to put off thinking about. George. What had come  _ over _ her tonight? She had behaved  _ so _ impulsively. 

Andrea laid back on her mattress and drew her curtains.  _ She  _ had kissed George.  _ She _ had seduced him. He had gone along with it, and yes, he had certainly enjoyed it, but now that Andrea had time to dwell on it, she started to doubt whether or not he would have really wanted to if she hadn’t been the one to initiate it. 

George had never had a girlfriend to Andrea’s knowledge. She was also fairly sure that he’d never even been kissed before, and she,  _ Andrea _ , had been the one to take his first kiss and  _ lay _ with him in one go. Worst of all, all of the feelings for George, that she had been trying to suppress, had now become painfully evident. 

His hands on her body, the taste of his kiss.  _ His  _ kiss. It felt almost too good to be reality. Now that she had truly allowed herself, she could see clearly just how long she had felt this way about George. 

She’d fancied him from the beginning, and at that moment, there was nothing in the world that she wanted more than for George to feel the same way about her. It made her feel vulnerable. She did not like it.

Andrea drew a deep, uneven sigh as Hugin rapped on her window, disturbing her train of thought. She sat up and opened the glass, and Hugin fluttered onto her knee.

“Oh, my precious boy,” said Andrea, scratching Hugin under his chin, her throat feeling oddly tight and burning. “I’ve missed you.”

Hugin hopped onto Andrea’s shoulder and nuzzled into her voluminous locks. A wave of emotion crashed over her. She finally surrendered to the tears that had been threatening to overflow all evening. 

What must George think of her  _ now _ ? He must think it was so  _ easy _ for her to behave like that with anyone. She had been too bold. She had skipped too many steps. All he had wanted to do was talk with her, and she had  _ flung _ herself on him. But the way he had kissed her – it had seemed so affectionate. 

Or did he consider what happened a casual one-night-stand? No big deal, perhaps? Just another of his numerous shenanigans? What if she had ruined her chances at a relationship with him by pushing him too far too quickly?

Fred always liked to joke that Andrea was some sort of sexual deviant… And she had hidden under George’s bed like a  _ crook _ . It was just too humiliating to bear.

Andrea took a deep breath, running her fingers through Hugin’s shiny feathers. No. She was over-reacting. She had to remember everything that led up to their encounter. 

Andrea had to admit to herself that it was fairly likely that George  _ did  _ have feelings for her based on his recent behavior, but she still felt too embarrassed and vulnerable to face George the next day. 

Andrea leaned back onto her bed and pulled out her copy of  _ Moste Potetnte Potions _ , trying to get her mind off of George. As she flipped through the thick, worn pages, a feeling of unease steadily crept up in Andrea’s mind. 

Suddenly, Andrea shot up and let the book slide from her hands and topple to the floor, causing Hugin to scramble off of Andrea’s shoulder, squawking loudly, and struggle into his cage. 

She had forgotten something – something  _ very _ important. Andrea had become so used to being  _ prepared _ when she was with Oliver, that she had forgotten to take her potion. In fact, she hadn’t made an anti-fertility potion in ages. The effects of the last potion didn’t wear off for a whole year, so she had completely forgotten about it after she and Oliver broke up. 

She would have to make a new batch as soon as possible, or there could be  _ very _ severe consequences. She would have to skip breakfast in the morning and hurry into the potions classroom before class so that Professor Snape didn’t find out about it. 

After a long, restless night, Andrea woke up before sunrise, shuffled quietly out of the dormitory, and sped across the common room and out the door. Andrea had just finished double checking her bag for her potions book when she reached the end of the spiral staircase to Ravenclaw Tower and came out onto the landing in the corridor. 

Andrea turned sharply out of the doorway and tumbled over something hard. 

“ _ Blimey _ ! Andrea, sorry, I feel asleep.” said George, helping Andrea to her feet. 

“George! What are you  _ doing _ out here?” said Andrea, brushing herself off. “It’s so early. How long have you been here?”

George turned to her, hands in his pockets with his head cocked slightly as he regarded her with the beginnings of a curious smile. 

“I just wanted to catch ya before you went down to breakfast,” said George, taking a slow step towards her. “I haven’t been here too long, but I wanted to tell you something before you hear it from… anyone else.”

Andrea braced herself. Her eyes widened in spite of herself. 

“Fred  _ knows _ ,” said George, digging in his pocket, his eyes still fixed on Andrea, “And he found out in probably one of the worst possible ways.”

George extracted a fisted hand from his pocket and extended it to Andrea. With a shaking hand, Andrea let George drop a small bunch of black fabric into her palm. It took a moment before Andrea realized what it was, but then it dawned on her. Her  _ knickers _ . 

Blushing furiously, Andrea stuffed her underwear into her bag while George watched, his hands in his pockets and biting his lip in attempts to hide a smile. 

“ _ Erm _ , thanks…” muttered Andrea, looking anywhere but George’s face. 

“You left them in my bed sheets, so when he sat down on it later to chat, he put his hand right on them. It would have been pretty funny,” said George, chuckling, “Except he was pretty annoyed that I didn’t tell him about it.”

_ Andrea _ didn’t think it would have been funny regardless. In fact, she was becoming quite irritated herself. 

“Listen, George,” said Andrea with a distinct edge to her voice, glancing down the corridor behind her, “I don’t have time to talk now. I need to get down to the dungeons before Professor Snape gets there.”

“Oh, alright,” said George with a slight note of disappointment, “You okay? I thought, y’know, you might want to chat a bit after yesterday.”

“No, I really don’t,” said Andrea flatly, looking at the ground. She didn’t dare let his eyes convince her to feel any differently. She turned on her heel and made down the corridor.

“Andrea! Wait!” called George, sprinting up to face her. “ _ Hold _ it now, won’t ya?” 

Andrea stopped, sighed, and looked up into George’s dark brown eyes which were carefully surveying her face. 

“Don’t tell me you  _ regret _ it?” said George, leaning forward and touching her wrist slightly, looking at her bangles that she had decided to wear despite everything. 

Andrea took a step away from George, even though she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Andrea could tell that George was trying to appear cheerful and light, but his eyes betrayed a slight confliction. 

“I don’t know yet,” said Andrea steadily. “It depends, I suppose. But I  _ really _ do need to hurry, George. Thanks for the warning about Fred. I’m sure he’ll have something smart to say later…”

“Wait! Hold up! Depends on  _ what _ !?” called George as Andrea hurried down the corridor away from him. “Alright, see ya around, then!”

Andrea made record time down to the dungeons, notwithstanding her run in with Peeves who had lobbed a particularly mushy pumpkin at her from over a bannister in the Grand Staircase, splattering only slightly on her boots as she dodged it. 

She peeked in the door to the dimly lit classroom and scanned the room for movement. After she was sure that Professor Snape wasn’t inside, Andrea slipped in, softly shut the door behind her, and busied herself with rummaging the storeroom for the ingredients needed for the recipe. 

Andrea shuffled the glass bottles around as quietly as she could to avoid clinking sounds, so it took a little longer than she had hoped to collect everything that she needed. Finally, Andrea lit a fire below her cauldron and began crushing her Anjelica root which she blended into a grey paste with a scoop of doxy eggs. 

The potion was coming along quite well in a short time. Her potion bubbled a bright orange as she added a sprinkle of moondew and stirred quickly counterclockwise. 

“Good day, Ms. Clearwater.” 

Andrea froze. 

“No need to let your potion spoil on my account… carry on,” said Professor Snape, with a slight smirk as Andrea hurriedly recommenced stirring her potion and dumped the remainder of the ingredients into the cauldron. “Not to worry, Ms. Clearwater… I take no issue with my  _ advanced _ students taking time for extra practice…” 

Professor Snape strode to his desk and began shuffling through sheets of parchment. Andrea felt a drop of sweat run down her jaw. Her eyes were glued to her potion, internally begging it to turn pink so she could stow it in a jar and leave. 

Andrea glanced over at Professor Snape, who had apparently been watching her over a discolored sheet of parchment. She regretted looking over at once, for at that moment, Professor Snape glided over to Andrea’s workstation and peered into Andrea’s cauldron. 

“What have we here…” said Snape with an important expression, quietly wafting the steam that rose from her pinkish-orange potion. “Anjelica root… mistletoe berry…traces of shrivelfig…moondew… curious… I must admit, I am at a loss.”

Andrea cursed herself for not closing  _ Moste Potente Potions  _ which lay open on the far end of the table. Professor Snape walked over to the book and scanned the page. His white finger traced the page down several sets of ingredients for a few different potions until it stopped on Anjelica root listed under the anti-fertility potion. 

Snape froze, still bent over her book. Andrea watched in horror, as a pink flush rose into his usually pasty white complexion. Snape cleared his throat, straightened up, pivoted on the spot, and briskly strode back to his desk. 

He snatched up a handful of parchment and glided towards the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, and glanced back, yet seeming to look past Andrea with his black eyes. 

“Take  _ care _ … Ms. Clearwater,” said Snape quietly. “And go eat something… unless of course you  _ want _ hair to sprout from your ears.”

Snape swept out of the room and shut the door with a slam. Andrea wanted to disappear. She rested her head on one hand while stirring the rest of the orange out of the mostly-pink potion with the other hand. What a way to start the day.

Before long, the potion thinned out and was a bright magenta. Andrea poured the contents of her potion into a glass jar, and spooned out a dose for herself. She would probably end up secretly selling the rest to other girls – potions like this were highly sought after on the student black-market.

The potion was still warm and smelled of astringent citrus and powdery, sickly-sweet flowers. Pinching her nose, Andrea gulped down the potion and felt a tingly burning sensation start at her toes and travel all the way up to her nose and ears. 

Andrea decided that Professor Snape was right about eating some breakfast, and she still had some time before class, so she headed back up to the entrance hall. 

Andrea stood just outside the double doors to the Great Hall, listening to the hum of early morning conversation. It was only seven-thirty so she still had plenty of time to eat before class.

In spite of her hunger, Andrea hesitated to join her friends. She could them see sitting in the middle of the Ravenclaw table where Jamie was gesturing animatedly and shaking a sausage, that rocked unsteadily on the end of her fork, at Roger. 

Andrea didn’t know what would be worse, facing Fred and George and all they might say at breakfast or waiting for hair to sprout from her ears and nose for a few hours before falling out. 

As the burning sensation in her nose increased, Andrea opted for the first option, strode quickly into the Great Hall, and took a seat next to Roger who was eating his usual eggs on toast. 

“Good morning!” said Elisa brightly, tossing several pieces of toast onto Andrea’s plate. “You feel any better today?”

“Yeah,” said Jamie, taking a swig of pumpkin juice and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “You seemed out of sorts yesterday, mate! What happened?”

“Don’t assault her with questions first thing in the morning,” said Roger dully, without looking up from the Daily Prophet and taking a small sip of coal-black coffee. “You both know it makes her more irritable.” 

_ More _ irritable? Andrea didn’t have the energy to retort at the moment, and she rather wanted to keep a low profile, so she remained silent as she picked at her toast.

“Andrea,” said Elisa in an excited whisper, “George hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you sat down. Ooo! I daresay he almost looks  _ broody _ ! Quite unusual! ”

Andrea fought an incredible urge to roll her eyes. Jamie looked over at George without bothering to be discreet about it.

“Yeah!” said Jamie loudly, “He kinda does doesn’t he. What did you  _ do _ to him Andrea? Confiscate his merchandise?”

“Shut  _ up _ , won’t you??” said Andrea through gritted teeth. “I really don’t need any more embarrassment today, thanks.”

“What’s so embarrassing about a good looking guy like George fancying you, eh?” said Jamie, “Oh curses, Fred noticed us. He’s looking  _ too _ , Andrea!”

“ _ SHUT IT! _ ” whispered Andrea ferociously, holding her fork so firmly it trembled on the table. 

“Hey, Andrea!” shouted Fred, “Oi! RAVENCLAW PREFECT NEEDED OVER HERE,  _ ANDREA _ !!” 

Andrea let her head drop into her hands. He could be so unbearably obnoxious. She drew a deep breath and slowly turned around, wearing a dangerous expression. 

“Yes, Fred?” said Andrea with mocked politeness, “How might I help you? Haven’t you got a Gryffindor prefect that can assist you? Your brother, Ronald, is one – if I’m not mistaken.”

“No,  _ no _ !” laughed Fred, “Let’s not trouble him with  _ this _ . It’s you I need! Come here won’t you?” 

“Sorry.  _ Nope _ .” said Andrea with a forced smile. “I’ve not finished my breakfast.”

“No, I’m  _ pretty _ sure you’d prefer it if you came  _ here _ ,” said Fred wisely, “Unless you’d rather talk about yesterday’s  _ festivities _ by shouting across the Hufflepuff table?”

People  _ were _ starting to stare. Careful not to make eye-contact with George, Andrea glared at Fred, and stuffed her toast in her mouth before getting up.

“Sorry,” said Andrea, looking around at Roger’s and the girls’ bewildered faces, “I need to take care of something.”

Andrea skirted around the Hufflepuff table and made her way up the row to the Gryffindor table, the butterflies in her stomach multiplying with each step. When she reached Fred he turned around, smiling, and gestured to the seat next to him.

“Sit! Welcome to the Gryffindor table!” said Fred, dramatically, “Come on now, sit! That’s the ticket!”

“What  _ is _ it, then?” said Andrea impatiently, sitting sideways in her seat so as to not look at George across the table. 

“I just wanted to hear from a Ravenclaw, and a prefect no less, how you enjoyed the renowned hospitality of the Weasley’s?” said Fred, flashing a sly grin and raising an eyebrow.

Andrea silently looked down at her hands. She decided that silence was probably the best way to cut Fred’s games short, so Andrea steadied herself and looked up at Fred defiantly. However, Fred didn’t seem bothered by Andrea’s lack of response in the least.

“Well, from what  _ I _ can tell,” said Fred with a devious smirk, “And from what George here  _ confirmed _ , I think  _ you _ had a better time than the rest of us all. Am I right?”

Andrea finally forced herself to look at George, who was being uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes were boring into her, but he smiled at her softly when she met his eye and averted his gaze pretending to find his neighbors’ conversation more interesting than Fred and Andrea’s. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say Fred,” sighed Andrea, looking back at Fred. “I know that you _ know  _ about what happened, so you might as well stop playing games with me. It just makes this whole thing even more unbearable.”

At the word, “unbearable,” George’s eyes flicked back over to Andrea and Fred, and he started mindlessly shifting his eggs with his fork.

“What do you  _ actually _ want Fred?” said Andrea in a low tone, “Why did you call me over here? To rub it in my face?”

“No! That’s not it at all!” said Fred, eyes lighting up with glee. “I just wanted to congratulate you on having such  _ balls _ ! To jump old Georgie like that in the Gryffindor  _ dormitory _ ! Wow! With all those people downstairs too – that’s some next level mischief making!” 

“ _ Shh _ !” said Andrea, abruptly standing up. “I’m leaving.”

“ _ Aww _ , come on, Andrea!” said Fred, “I’m not trying to soil your reputation as a law-abiding prefect or anything. There’s nothing wrong with a witch working her  _ magic _ on a wizard is there? A witch who takes what she wants is attractive.  _ Girl _ power, am I right?”

With a final scathing glare, Andrea stalked back down the aisle. She looked back over her shoulder to find that George had gotten up as well and was taking long strides parallel to Andrea down the aisle between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. By the double doors, Andrea stopped and waited for George to catch up with her.

“Hey,” said George with a faint smile, “ _ Er _ , sorry about all that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Said Andrea, looking around at the ceiling to avoid looking at him. “You did warn me. I wasn’t that surprised, and it honestly wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be.”

“Andrea…” sighed George, looking uncharacteristically earnest, “Please, can’t we talk for a minute before class?”

“I don’t know… I’m not sure there’s time, I have to – ” started Andrea, before George cut her off.

“Come on. There’s time,” said George, moving his face into Andrea’s field of vision. “We can’t avoid this forever.”

“Alright,” said Andrea, her heart sinking deep into her knees. “Let’s go outside though. I don’t really want to do this in here.”

Andrea and George walked out side-by-side into the entrance hall and towards the double doors that led outside. Just as they were almost to the doors, Professor Snape appeared in the doorway that lead to the kitchens nearby. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Andrea and George together. 

Andrea couldn’t help but stop as well, as Snape slowly scanned the space between Andrea and George, seeming to be putting two and two together. His eyes rested on Andrea, and he raised his eyebrows, giving her a dark, meaningful look before slowly turning to the stairs that lead to the dungeons. 

Andrea and George turned back to the double doors and pushed out into the chilly November air. The two walked silently all the way to a flat stone near the edge of the Black Lake and sat down. 

“Will you be warm enough?” asked George, looking over at Andrea as the wind whipped her hair around in gusts. 

“I’m a little cold, but I don’t expect we will be out here for too long,” said Andrea, looking out onto the slate-black lake that rippled with the wind. 

They sat in silence for a minute before George finally spoke. 

“So…” he said, hesitantly, but didn’t continue.

“May I guess what you’re going to say?” said Andrea, who couldn’t bear prolonging George letting her down. 

He had seemed so unaffected by what had happened last night, making jokes and talking casually about it earlier that morning. Now it seemed that he must have realized her feelings for him, when she ran off twice, and decided to clear things up with her. She was sure he didn’t want to hurt her, and she couldn’t bear breaking down in front of him.   
“ _Er_ , sure,” said George, looking slightly surprised. 

“You asked me earlier if I regretted it,” said Andrea, gazing into the distance, “And I said it would  _ depend _ . My guess is that while you _ don’t _ regret it, you  _ do _ want to let me know that you see what happed that night as nothing serious and that you don’t want me getting emotional about it. Does that sound about right?”

“ _ What _ ?!” said George, pulling Andrea around to look at his astonished face. “ _ No _ , Andrea! Is that  _ really _ what you think?” 

Andrea’s throat felt very tight and sticky as she swallowed, trying to keep her composure. 

“ _ I _ don’t regret it, Andrea.” said George, with a laugh, “In fact, I was so sure I had dreamed it all up until Fred found your… well you know… When you ran off at the party I figured you were just a bit boggled, but after I saw you this morning I started to think that maybe  _ you _ regretted it.”

George watched several owls passing overhead. Andrea watched George intently, but was too nervous to speak. George tossed a stone which soared through the air and landed with a  _ plunk _ in the Black Lake, causing the surface to ripple and lap at the gritty bank. 

“Andrea, I’m gonna be honest with you,” said George after a moment. “I know you’re too lovely for me, but I had  _ hoped _ , when you kissed me, that you might’ve wanted me in the same way I’ve been wanting you.”

George looked back at Andrea, regarding her carefully. 

“ _ Do _ you regret it?” asked George encouragingly, leaning towards her with his eyes fixed on her attentively. 

“No,” said Andrea, her stomach suddenly churning, “I don’t regret it. I didn’t realize…”

George quickly took both of her hands in his, her bangles tinkling as they bumped into each other, and he leaned even closer so that she had no choice but to look him in the eye.   
“Do you care for me, then?” asked George quietly, staring deeply into Andrea’s eyes. “I won’t lie – I stayed awake nearly all night last night thinking about you. I knew I had to see you early – so I could _know_ it wasn’t all a dream and that you were alright.”  
He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, George took Andrea’s chin gently between his fingers, leaned in, and kissed her slowly and softly. As Andrea leaned into his kiss. George wrapped his arms around her waist and scooted her closer so that she was enveloped in his cloak. 

Relief poured over Andrea like a hot spring. She wrapped her arms around his toasty-warm chest. George broke the kiss, and smiled warmly at Andrea. 

“That’s better isn’t it?” said George with a grin. “I like it when I can get a smile out of ya.

“It just feels so  _ nice _ , y’know?” said George pulling Andrea’s hand up to tenderly kiss it. “It’s so easy, having you close to me. You’re awfully quiet – what’s going on in your head, eh?”

Andrea felt a bit dizzy, her head fuzzy and buzzing from George’s touch and smell – cedar, sweet musk, and a hint of gunpowder. It was like a wonderful daydream. Everything had changed in a moment.

“I’m just…happy I guess,” sighed Andrea, looking up into George’s face. The warmth of his breath and his body fought away the cold morning air. “I’m kind of in shock I guess.” 

George tilted his head back and laughed heartily.

“You know, Andrea,” he said, “when we first came out here I was  _ so _ sure you were gonna tell me to piss off. I was prepared and all too.”

George winked cheekily at Andrea, before bending down to gently kiss her once more.

“George?”

“Hm?”

“You said Fred was mad when he first found out,” said Andrea, “Why should he be?”

“Well,” said George with a sly look, “That’s because he’s secretly mad that he’s the only Weasley lad, besides Ron, who’s still a virgin now. Even after  _ Percy!  _ He always thought he’d lose it before me because he snogged Angelina at the ball last year.” 

Andrea giggled. It wasn’t particularly amusing, but she was in an excellent mood and she felt like satisfying George’s need to bring humor into every scenario. They kissed some more over the next few, blissful minutes, before the bell for class rang. 

Andrea and George ran back up the stone steps into Hogwarts. Andrea knew that she would be at least several minutes late for potions, but as she laughed with George, she couldn’t bring herself to care just yet. 

“Do have fun with the old bat,” said George as Andrea prepared to descend the stairway to the dungeons. “I honestly don’t know how you can get on with him.”

“He’s not _ that _ bad,” said Andrea, “You just need to be polite and not clown around in his class, and that’s enough for him… most of the time.”

“Hm. I’m not too great at that,” said George, jogging backwards up the marble staircase. “Bye then, Andrea. I won’t have much free time today – we’re playing Slytherin tomorrow and we’ve got to give Snape something to be cross about, don’t we? Sounds like he’s getting  _ soft _ .”

He winked and grinned naughtily at Andrea before dashing up the stairs and out of sight. 


	7. Quidditch Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited Oct 1, 2020

Professor Snape was writing instructions on the blackboard when Andrea quietly slipped in the classroom. Andrea quickly pulled out her notebook and copied down Snape’s notes on potion design theory as naturally as possible. 

Once he had finished the last of his bullet points, Professor Snape whipped around and scanned the room. His eyes landed on Andrea for a moment. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, but he whirled back around to seat himself behind his cluttered desk. 

After everyone in her class had finished copying from the board, each head looked up at Snape who was sitting and tapping his fingertips together.

“At this  _ advanced _ stage in potion making,” said Snape quietly, “You  _ should _ be ready to consider the theory behind potion making and to attempt designing your own potions. I trust all of you remembered to read chapters twenty-three through twenty-five, as I had previously instructed, despite last night’s  _ excitement _ …”

Snape’s eyes fell darkly on Andrea, before scanning over his other students. 

“Perhaps, someday…” said Snape, slowly rising from his stiff-backed chair, “A  _ select _ few of you might even create something of  _ real  _ use. 

“One must consider the components of each ingredient,” Snape continued, “Its properties, its known interactions with other ingredients, and the  _ acceptable _ methods of preparation for each. Today, you will review the index in your textbook and select five ingredients of which you will attempt to combine and to create a potion that yields a desired effect of your choosing.

“Before commencing,” said Snape, eyeing the class ominously, “You will present to me a list of ingredients, a summary of why and  _ how _ you will prepare your ingredients,  _ and _ overall instructions for your potion… After my approval, you may begin brewing your  _ simple _ potion. If any of you succeed in poisoning yourselves… you know where the antidotes are kept. Begin.”

Andrea had been looking forward to potion design for ages. She rifled through her bag, pulled out her  _ Advanced Potions _ book, and tossed it onto the table. Relieved that Professor Snape hadn’t told her off for being late, Andrea was determined to finish her potion as efficiently as possible. 

She scanned through the ingredients, and decided to go for some kind of stress reducer – she had a feeling she would need it. She knew that horseradish was used in laughing potions, so a small amount of that couldn’t hurt. Horklump juice was used in quite a few healing potions, so she would add that to refresh the body. Wormwood infusion… Yes, that ingredient was used to induce euphoria in other potions. 

That was three out of five, and she needed a thickener for her horseradish powder so that it wasn’t too quickly dissolved, so she could use flobberworm mucus for that, making four out of five. 

Andrea jotted down her list and turned back to her textbook. She decided to finish it off by adding syrup of Hellebore, which was used in draught of peace to calm the nerves. 

She quickly went back through the text and cross-referenced the ingredients to make sure that they did not cause alternative effects when combined together. Thankfully, the ingredients she had selected were quite commonplace, so there were no ingredient to ingredient interactions. 

Andrea’s quill quickly scratched her parchment as she hurriedly described how she thought the ingredients should be prepared, when they should be added, the length to time simmering, and the stirring techniques that she thought would work best based on theories she had read. 

“Professor,” said Andrea, raising her hand in the air, “I’m ready to show you my list, if you don’t mind, sir.” 

“Very well,” said Snape, striding over to her workstation.

He loomed over her sheet of parchment, a sight that reminded her painfully of that morning’s encounter. 

“Hm,” said Snape, “I recommend stirring the horseradish counterclockwise after thirteen minutes, not twelve… While in theory it  _ should _ turn acid green the addition of Hellebore will most likely turn the mixture  _ teal _ … It appears as though it  _ might _ work… theoretically. You may test it.”

Professor Snape began to walk away, then stopped suddenly in his tracks. 

“Ms. Clearwater,” said Snape quietly, slowly turning on the spot to face Andrea once more. “Take  _ care _ … with the company you keep… It would certainly be regrettable for you to become  _ distracted _ from your studies by… _ delinquents _ .”

Andrea felt herself blush, but Snape said no more and wandered over to peer over a nervous-looking Hufflepuff girl’s shoulder. 

Near the end of the lesson, Andrea sampled her anti-stress concoction, which luckily didn’t kill her. It did cause her fingernails to grow a couple of centimeters, but it was otherwise delightfully effective. 

The weight of the morning seemed to dissipate from her shoulders, and everything seemed somewhat brighter. She could even face Professor Snape, after their earlier run-in, without flinching. 

Due to the class’s overall success Professor Snape made no mention of any homework at the end of the lesson, which Andrea interpreted as his way of rewarding them. Miles Bletchley, a Slytherin boy in Andrea’s year, had succeeded in belching fire without burning his mouth, and Kenneth Towler of Gryffindor had cured his chronic toe fungus. 

After potions, Andrea gladly hiked her way back up to Ravenclaw tower for her break before lunch where she could have some peace for at least  _ one _ hour of her day. However, she was sidetracked on the way by a second year Gryffindor boy who needed help finding the hospital wing. 

He was clutching his left hand and blood could be seen smeared around his knuckles where he grasped his wound. Andrea brought him to Madame Pomphrey, the school nurse, who snatched the boy into her clutches and mumbled something that sounded much like “ _ medieval methods _ .”

Andrea soon found herself settled down in a chair facing the Quidditch pitch in Ravenclaw tower. She closed her eyes and soaked in the peace and quiet of the empty common room. Her thoughts were far away, back down by the edge of the lake, to George’s confession and his embrace. How silly she had been. Last night wasn’t a mistake, it was the just the beginning. 

After a while, Andrea noticed the weightless sensation of her potion wearing off, but she did feel a lot better than she had earlier. Perhaps she could tweak the potion to make it last longer, so she made note of the duration in her notebook for later reference. 

Andrea heard the bell for lunch ring faintly through the glass windowpane, so she made her way down the Great Hall once more. A little later, she found herself chatting with Roger about the next days’ Quidditch match, between Gryffindor and Slytherin, when a peculiar chanting could be heard growing in volume over the chatter. Even Cho Chang stopped her conversation with Marietta to listen. 

“ _ Weasley cannot save a thing, _

_ He cannot block a single ring, _

_ That's why Slytherins all sing: _

_ Weasley is our King. _

_ Weasley was born in a bin _

_ He always lets the Quaffle in _

_ That's why Slytherins all sing: _

_ Weasley is our King.”  _

Andrea’s eyes widened as she made sense of the horrid song that rose louder and louder. She had made a habit of sitting with her back to most of the Great Hall so as to avoid the temptation of glancing at George at every meal, so she had to turn around to look at the Gryffindor table. 

Fred and George were seated on either side of their younger brother, Ronald, who was as red as a boiled lobster. The twins looked murderous, each gripping their cutlery and turning around to glare at the Slytherin table behind them. Fred scratched the back of his head pointedly with his middle finger while George muttered into Ron’s ear. 

According to Roger, Ronald was Gryffindor’s new keeper, and he apparently hadn’t proven to be a great one, yet he had somehow still gotten the position. Andrea guessed that picking on their younger brother’s Quidditch skills was the least of the twins’ worries.

“Born in a bin,” the song had said. When Andrea caught George’s eye, he smiled grimly at her and looked down, growing nearly as red as Ron. 

“Wow,” said Andrea to Jamie, Eliza, and Roger, “That was a horrid song. I hope Slytherin loses tomorrow to shut them up.”

“Yeah,” said Jamie, “They’re team is worth goblin’s piss anyway. They’re just lucky they’ve got fast broomsticks.”

Andrea’s heart felt heavy thinking of George’s and Fred’s humiliation. 

“Hey, guys,” said Andrea quietly, “I have a bit of a confession to make.”

“Go on then,” said Jamie, putting down her post, and sharing a look with Eliza. “This oughta be good.”

“I… Well, I’m sort of hot for George,” said Andrea quickly, picking a pickle off of her sandwich. “I just wanted to clear that up, in case anything comes of it, so you all wouldn’t be too surprised.”

Eliza put her hand to her mouth and stifled a snort. Roger’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared into his hairline.   
“ _Oh_ Andrea,” said Jamie seriously, reaching out and laying her hand on the table in front of her, “Don’t you _worry_ , love. We would _never_ have been surprised.” 

“ _ Okay _ , Andrea,” said Roger with a slight air of smugness, “ _ Now _ you’ve got my curiosity. You said, ‘In case anything comes of it.’ That leads me to believe that something  _ has _ come of it, or you wouldn’t have made this obvious and unnecessary confession to us. So, tell me, what’s the real reason you’ve been acting like you’ve got a hive of billywigs in your knickers lately?”

At the word ‘knickers,’ Andrea could tell that her face had betrayed her. She definitely wouldn’t tell them everything just now while it was still so fresh, but she had to say something.

“Oh,  _ alright _ then,” said Andrea, taking a large, forceful bite of her sandwich. “We talked a bit, and we’ve come to the conclusion that we have similar sentiments.”

“Ooo _hoo_ _hoo_!” said Jamie, bouncing and grinning eagerly, “ _Youuu_ are hiding something Andrea! All that fancy talk _proves_ it!! And you can _bet_ that I’m going to extract it from you before too long. You just _wait_! Eliza, do you still have that knotgrass mead in your trunk?? We are getting this out of her _tonight_!” 

Eliza smiled enthusiastically, then glanced at Andrea; her smile slowly faded away.

“I don’t know, Jamie,” said Eliza quietly, fidgeting in her seat, “If there  _ is _ something more, she clearly doesn’t want to tell us about it or she would have told us already.”

“What’s gotten  _ into _ you!” exclaimed Jamie, pounding a fist on the table causing Roger to knock his teeth on the lip of his goblet and slosh pumpkin juice down his front. “I  _ live _ for this stuff!”

“It’s alright, guys,” said Andrea, giving the girls a start, “If you share your mead with me Eliza, I’ll tell you a little more. You won’t have to dig too deep, Jamie. I kind of do want to share this with you all – if you can promise to keep your mouths shut.” 

Jamie looked as though Christmas had come early.

“ _ Really _ ??” said Jamie, “I  _ promise _ ! I won’t breathe a word and neither will Eliza! Roger hardly talks anyway, so you can count on him as well.”

Roger glared silently at Jamie, shaking his head in disapproval, while dabbing pumpkin juice off his chin and shaking off his newspaper. 

As the day went on, the tension between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors grew steadily stronger. In charms, a Slytherin cast a pimple jinx at Alicia Spinnet, a Gryffindor chaser, while they were supposed to be learning to charm brushes and brooms to clean the classroom. Later on, she watched as a group of Slytherin’s legs were uncontrollably tap dancing down the corridor outside of a particularly cranky Professor McGonagall’s classroom. 

The next day was even worse, with fights breaking out all over the castle between classes, and the number of Slytherin’s headed to the hospital wing with bat bogey hexes were increasing at an alarming rate. 

_ Weasley is Our King _ could be heard throughout the day, much to the fury of the Weasley twins. Professor Sprout threatened the twins with detention on account of the particularly vulgar expletives the two would shout back in response during Herbology that afternoon. 

Andrea was partnered up with Angelina in pruning unhealthy, knobby protrusions on bowtruckles in Herbology. Though bowtruckles looked quite a lot like plants, they were in fact tree guardians – much more like an animal than a plant, but Professor Sprout decided that tending to them would be beneficial as they were directly related to plant care. 

Fred and George viscously struggled to pin theirs down as it gnashed its jaws at any bit of flesh it could reach. Andrea held firmly onto her little woody creature’s arms above the work table while Angelina concentrated on snipping off a growth under its armpit with her clippers.

“ _ Pox _ on these damn things!” said Fred, sweating profusely as he stuffed a garden glove into the bowtruckle’s mouth and holding it there while George held tightly to a thrashing leg.

Angelina giggled at Fred, glancing up at him as she snipped off the last of the growths on their bowtruckle. 

“Good work Ms. Clearwater, Ms. Johnson,” said Professor Sprout proudly, as Andrea expertly flung their snarling, writhing bowtruckle back into the crate. 

Professor Sprout eyed the twins wrestling their bowtruckle which was now kicking George repeatedly in the face. Professor Sprout smiled and shook her head, her gloved hands in fists on her plump hips. 

“You boys could learn a thing or two from these ladies,” said Professor Sprout.

“Oh, I’m  _ sure _ we could,” said George, leaning away from the angry gremlin to waggle his eyebrows obscenely at Andrea before receiving a hard kick in his throat by his bowtruckle’s gnarled foot.

“Now hurry up!” barked Professor Sprout, bustling off to check on the other students’ progress. “We haven’t got all day and you boys have Quidditch match to get ready for unless I’m mistaken.” 

Andrea put away her clippers and finished washing her hands just in time for the bell for the end of class sounded. The twins, overseen by Professor Sprout, were the only ones in the class to have not finished with their bowtruckles and were gingerly clipping off the last of the growths. Andrea headed back up to the castle, quite ready for some dinner.

After a hasty meal, Andrea, Roger, Jamie, and Eliza hurried down, across the frost-covered grass, to the Quidditch pitch. Roger’s arm was laced around Fay Dunbar’s waist – a fifth year Gryffindor girl that Roger had introduced that evening as his latest girlfriend, and was chattering nonstop about broom speed versus player skill. 

When they arrived at the Quidditch pitch, Fay invited them all to the Gryffindor stands to root for her team, but only Roger seemed enthusiastic about this prospect, so they parted ways. The stands around the pitch were quickly filling up with students, most of whom were carrying red banners and wearing Gryffindor badges. “Weasley is Our King” could be heard echoing from the Slytherin section of the stands. 

Jamie linked arms with Andrea and Eliza and pulled them forward, skipping to the Ravenclaw stands.

“Come on, ladies!” said Jamie excitedly, hopping down onto the stands nearest to the pitch. “This is bound to be a bloodthirsty game. Remember a couple years ago when I dated Terence Higgs? That Malfoy brat got him bumped off the Slytherin team so he could be Seeker, remember? Well he told me that the  _ Slytherin _ team places bets the night before the game on who will get  _ beaten _ the hardest.”

“ _ That’s _ distasteful,” said Eliza, scrunching up her nose and gazing towards the Slytherin stands. 

Just then, the Slytherin team could be seen gathering on the pitch below. Shortly thereafter, the Gryffindor team huddled together close by. The team captains, Angelina and Montague, shook hands and the umpire, Madam Hooch, blew the whistle starting the game. 

“There’s your man Andrea – or at least I think it is.” said Jamie, elbowing Andrea in the ribs. “It doesn’t really matter though does it? They’re both pretty hot – Ohhh!  _ No _ !”

Angelina had missed the goal, and the echo of “Weasley is Our King” was now too loud to be ignored. The twins’ best friend, Lee Jordan, who commentated the matches, had to fight to make himself heard over the chanting below, and it was clear that poor Ronald was having a hard time ignoring the song as well. His first game as keeper was nothing short of disastrous, especially compared with their previous keeper, Oliver. 

Each time Ron tried to block the Quaffle, he seemed to seize up and miss painfully. Andrea watched as one of the twins lobbed a Bludger at Warrington who dropped the Quaffle back into Gryffindor possession. Despite her catch, Katie Bell fumbled with the Quaffle and Slytherin managed to take possession again and made yet another score. 

The game was excruciating to watch, and Andrea tried her best to ignore the boorish lyrics that were being shouted by every Slytherin in the stadium. It seemed to be dragging on forever, and Andrea could hardly watch. 

The score was forty-ten when suddenly Harry Potter, neck and neck with Malfoy, abruptly zoomed down towards the pitch and caught the snitch faster than Andrea could perceive. Somehow Gryffindor had pulled it off. 

The crowd roared and Andrea leapt up and ran down the stairs to the Quidditch pitch. When she reached the edge of the pitch, Potter was being pulled off the ground, as he had apparently taken a hit from a Bludger. She stood on the sidelines, watching Fred and George who were triumphantly hollering, punching the air, and running towards Potter. 

Andrea was very glad that the twins had gotten their win, especially after the dreadful day that they had been having. Andrea had intended on waiting on the edge of the field until George had properly celebrated with his teammates before going out to congratulate him, but something suddenly changed. 

The twins’ smiles had disappeared, and they were tensed and furiously staring at Draco Malfoy, who appeared to be goading them. Andrea couldn’t hear much from where she was standing, but she did pick out the words, “fat mother and useless loser.” Suddenly, Harry Potter was restraining George, and Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were all holding back Fred from attacking Malfoy. 

Andrea was sure she heard Malfoy say something that sounded a lot like “stinky pigsty” when both Potter and George charged at Malfoy and began pulverizing him mercilessly with their fists. 

Madam Hooch rushed over and blasted George and Potter back with an impediment jinx and proceeded to shout at the pair of them, pointing back to the castle. The pair trudged back towards the castle while Hooch turned on Fred, who was still trying to escape his restrainers’ grasps to get at Malfoy as well. 

Jamie and Eliza came up behind Andrea from the Ravenclaw stands.

“Oh  _ my _ ,” said Eliza, with her hand still wavering over her mouth, “Why did they  _ do _ that Andrea, do you know?”

“I think Malfoy insulted their family,” said Andrea, rubbing her temples. “Let’s go, hopefully they can get out of this without being expelled this time.”

They passed Malfoy, who was still curled up, whimpering, on the ground with blood trickling from his nose. This was bound to happen to him eventually, thought Andrea, seeing as he always made a habit of insulting people’s parents. 

Andrea didn’t know where George was, but she knew where he would eventually turn up, so she left Eliza and Jamie, as they made for Ravenclaw tower, and she hurried to the seventh floor. It was pretty easy to find the portrait of the Fat Lady once she’d been there, so she settled down on the floor with one of her new Charms books and began to read. 

Many Gryffindors muttered curiously at her presence, but Andrea was determined to ignore them and remain engrossed in her book. After a quarter of an hour, Andrea glanced up to see Angelina speaking quietly to Fred, lightly rubbing his arm.

Fred looked angrier than Andrea had ever seen him; he glanced down at her, but didn’t show any sign of acknowledgement before crossing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. 

A half an hour more passed, and there was still no sign of George. Finally, Potter stomped by and stormed into the portrait hole without so much as glancing her way. She was sure that George would be along soon. At least Potter looked more angry than defeated. They mustn’t have gotten expelled after all. After about five more minutes, George appeared looking nearly as furious as Fred.

“George,” said Andrea quietly, clearly breaking his train of thought as he looked around wildly for who had spoken. He looked down and spotted Andrea where she was sitting on the floor. 

Without speaking, George threw himself down next to Andrea with a thud and rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his head with his hands.

“Are you alright?” asked Andrea quietly. She knew of course that he wasn’t, but she had to start somewhere. 

“I’ve been banned from Quidditch,” said George dully, “A  _ life _ -long ban, according to that bloody, slimy toad hag.” 

“Umbridge?” said Andrea, “She doesn’t have the right to do that! It’s up to the head of your house and I know that McGonagall – ”

“Apparently there’s a new decree that says she  _ does _ ,” said George bleakly, finally glancing at Andrea. 

Andrea wasn’t sure what to say. This was certainly bad news, and George seemed positively miserable. She noticed that the knuckles on his right hand were purple and bruised. Cautiously, Andrea reached over and took George’s hand. It was hot and clammy.

“You’re hand got pretty banged up, didn’t it?” said Andrea softly, tracing her fingers around each knuckle. “I’m so sorry things happened like this, George, but I have to admit that I didn’t mind seeing Malfoy finally get what he deserves.”

“He did, didn’t he?” said George, slowly looking up, seeming at once a little lighter. “Greasy little sod sucker.”

George smiled thoughtfully at Andrea until a mischievous spark reappeared in his eye.

“Hey, you know what I think would cheer me up?” said George with a sly grin, “Some  _ snogging _ would do me good just now – for my health – that’s all.” 

“Oh?” said Andrea, raising a haughty eyebrow, “For your  _ health _ ?”

“Of course!” said George, “My mental health! Mental health is just as important as physical wellbeing, Andrea. A smart lady like yourself ought to be aware of that!”

“And do tell me just exactly  _ who _ it is that you think you’ll be snogging, then?” said Andrea, sitting up straight, pointing her nose in the air with a side-glance at George. 

“ _ Mmm _ ,” said George grinning hungrily at Andrea, “ _ You’ll  _ do quite nicely, I think!” 

George, biting his lip playfully, suddenly seized Andrea’s ankle and yanked her across the floor towards him causing her to fall back, fully flat on the cool stone. Grinning wickedly, George leapt up and knelt on either side of Andrea, pinning her down. 

“Is that alright with you, Ms. Clearwater?” said George mockingly, “Or are prefects like yourself above all of that?”

“Hmm,” said Andrea playfully, her insides surging with anticipation, “That  _ depends _ , but if it’s for your health, as you say…”

George fell back to sitting, scooped Andrea onto his lap, and kissed her hotly. This time, his hands roamed freely from her waist to her breasts.

“ _ Ahem _ ! I  _ am _ right here you know!” said the Fat Lady indignantly, fanning herself heavily with her powder-pink fan, “Kindly cease and  _ desist  _ before I have to take  _ action _ !”

“ _ Hah _ !” said George, “You might’ve spoken up a little earlier! We forgot all about  _ you _ ! She just wanted some gossip for her old drinking friends I’d wager – old pervert.”

Andrea got up and brushed herself off. George’s face was still slightly flushed from exhilaration, and standing there in his dirty, grass-stained Quidditch robes which clung to his shapely form and revealed only his sinewy forearms, Andrea couldn’t help but stare. George was staring back at her, his eyes wandering up and down her body, then he stopped wearing a slightly dazzled look. 

“ _ You _ …” said George, with an appraising look, rubbing a hand through his sweaty red hair, “You are really quite stunning, you know. The one good thing about me getting chucked from the team is that I’ll have more time to chase after you.” 

“Do try and stay out of trouble for a little while, won’t you?” said Andrea, picking up her bag, “I’d hate to see you kicked out of the school your last year.”

“I can’t really promise that, I’m afraid,” said George chuckling, “It’s not our way, me and Fred, plus now that Umbridge is here it’ll be even harder not to skive off. But we’ve got big plans, Andrea, so don’t fret. It won’t matter too much in the end.”

Andrea said goodbye to George and made her way back to Ravenclaw Tower feeling buoyant. It was still pretty early, so Andrea made herself comfortable next to the fireplace in the common room, allowing herself to daydream a little. 

“ _ There  _ she is!” said Jamie, jumping over the back of the sofa to sit beside Andrea. “Now that you're back from talking to George, I presume, you can tell us  _ all _ about what’s really going on there! You put it off yesterday, but  _ tonight _ there’s  _ no _ escape!”

Roger and Eliza both sat down in the nearby arm chairs, and Eliza slipped several small tankards along with a large bottle of knotgrass mead from her cloak. Roger opened up a book on Quidditch flying techniques, and accepted a small glass distributed by Jamie. 

Andrea took a sip of her golden mead which went down sweet, woody, and warm. Looking up, Andrea noticed that three sets of eyes were fixed on her, waiting for her to begin – although Roger only peered over the top of his book, pretending not to be as interested as he clearly was. 

“Hm, okay then,” said Andrea, leaning back and sipping her mead, “So, let’s see… on Halloween I went to the twin’s party. I ended up chatting with George a bit and we ended up…snogging.”

Jamie was clutching her crystal tankard, grinning and nodding in encouragement. 

“And??” said Jamie impatiently, “How was it?? Details, Andrea, details!”

“It was nice,” said Andrea, smiling to herself, “Quite enjoyable, and we’ve snogged a couple times since then as well.” 

“I  _ told _ you there was nothing to worry about!” said Roger, discarding all pretense of reading. “It’s always been clear that he fancies you. Did you ask him out as I suggested?”

“Wait you already told  _ him _ !?” said Jamie pointing a finger in Roger’s face, outraged, and shaking her fiery red head in annoyance. “I can’t believe it!”

“No! Jamie, I didn’t tell him.” said Andrea, holding up her hands defensively, “He  _ guessed _ it, but I didn’t deny or confirm anything. And no, Roger, I haven’t asked him out… We’re just friends, but… well, with some snogging sometimes. If he want to ask me out he can feel free.”

Andrea would truthfully like it very much if George made a move to become more serious with her, but she preferred not to admit it. She had made enough first moves already. 

“But that  _ is  _ all that happened between you and George,” said Roger slyly, leaning forward. “Isn’t that  _ right, _ Andrea?” 

Andrea looked into Roger’s clever blue eyes. It almost seemed like he was trying to use his charms on her – a tactic likely brought on by the mead. Roger was, in fact, undeniably attractive, but not in the ways that enticed Andrea, so his smart looks were mostly ineffective on her. 

“ _ Hmf _ ,” said Andrea, sipping her mead and lying her legs on Jamie’s lap, “What a  _ rude _ thing to imply, Roger. How about, instead,  _ you _ tell us all about what you and Fay have been up to? I’m certain it’s nothing good.” 

“Oh, well, if you  _ really _ want to know…” said Roger with an arrogant smirk, “Last night, I found us a cozy little niche near the astronomy tower, and I showed her all the things I can do with these.”

Roger wiggled his fingers in front of him and took a haughty sip of his mead.

“ _ EW _ ,” said Eliza, and turned very pink, “That’s enough of that. I think we’ve heard enough of all this. Besides, since Andrea decided to come out in the open about her secret, I might as well do the same with  _ mine _ .”

Jamie’s head swiveled around to stare at Eliza in astonishment. 

“Eliza??” said Jamie, aghast, “What are you on about?”

“I’m…seeing someone too,” said Eliza, squirming in her seat, “Someone in Slytherin house.”

There was a long silence in which everyone stared at Eliza who fidgeted with her green bottle of knotgrass mead. 

“ _ Who _ ?” said Jamie, still looking shocked, “Who is it you’re seeing, then?  _ Go _ on!”

Eliza slowly met Andrea’s eye. Andrea smiled softly and nodded reassuringly. 

“ _ Erm _ …” said Eliza, growing redder still and looking down, “Her name is Lexi.”

Roger smiled knowingly at Andrea before turning to Eliza.

“Good for you!” said Roger, patting Eliza awkwardly on the knee, “How long have you been together?”

“Since last spring,” said Eliza, smiling bashfully at each of them in turn.

“Oh  _ wow _ …” said Jamie, leaning back and looking towards the fire. “Well, that’s certainly a long time to keep your best friend out of the loop, isn’t it.”

Jamie suddenly smiled around, with the air of someone who had drunk one too many coffees, and scooted to sit on the edge of the couch with her hands on her hips.

“Well, good for  _ you _ ! Good for  _ all _ of you!” said Jamie, in a wavering tone that was clearly meant to sound cheerful. “I suppose I’m the only single one in the group now, eh? Oh well, that’s fine. I’ve had my fun before now!”

“ _ Jamie _ ,” said Andrea, taken aback by Jamie’s behavior, “I’m still single as well. George and I  _ aren’t _ dating.”

“Oh sure, well for  _ now _ , right?” said Jamie, “Soon enough though I’m sure you will be. That’s wonderful, Andrea. I really am ecstatic for you. And for you as well Roger and for you Eliza! Well, I’m feeling a little woozy after this mead. I think I’m gonna need the toilet in a minute, so don’t wait up for me.”

Andrea, Roger, and Eliza watched as Jamie skipped up the stairs to the girls dormitory and out of sight. 

“You don’t suppose that’s she’s upset that I’m… _ gay _ , do you?” said Eliza quietly looking quite abashed.

“ _ No _ ,” said Roger firmly, “No, I think she just feels left out now that she’s the only one who’s not seeing someone… and she might feel a bit hurt that you didn’t trust her with this.”

The three sat in silence for another hour or so, reading and writing, before heading up to bed. Jamie, Holly, and Kate were all sound asleep when Eliza and Andrea quietly crept in the dormitory. Hugin was asleep in his cage, and Kate was snoring again. 

Andrea tucked herself into her warm blankets, grateful to be cozy in her bed after a drafty November day. Tonight she wouldn’t even need sleeping drought to sleep deeply. She was immensely tired and content, despite the emerging problems with Umbridge interfering at Hogwarts, but she wouldn’t think about that now. For now, she would simply let the sweet mead lull her into a long night of pleasant dreams. 


	8. The Right Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited Oct 3 2020

Early the next morning, Jamie had the same strange manner of false exuberance. Over breakfast, Andrea and Roger were already getting headaches from listening to Jamie babble nonstop about everything that seemed to cross her mind. Eliza stared on with concern at Jamie, as she explained to them all why she had chosen to wear orange socks that morning.

“I realize that they kinda clash with my hair, but something about them just called to me this morning, y’know?” said Jamie, chewing a potato chunk with unnecessary aggression. “I also realize that it’s not like anyone can see them under my robes, but  _ still _ I thought – ”

“Jamie,” Eliza interrupted, “Are you upset with me?”

“ _ What _ ??” said Jamie, waving her hands around wildly, “Upset? Why on earth would I be upset? Oh! About our little conversation last night? No,  _ no _ ! It’s great you’re getting on with someone – I know I certainly never held back! When I wanted to date a lad I would, but I just haven’t felt like it lately. That’s not your problem!”

Jamie grabbed about eight pieces of bacon from the platter in front of her without looking, and began slashing them up into very tiny pieces.

“I’m not upset, no,” said Jamie. “I’m happy for you.  _ But,  _ if I could change one thing about the way you handled that whole situation, I’d say that you might’ve considered your  _ best friend _ trustworthy enough to tell her that you were seeing someone or perhaps that you didn’t even like guys. Though I confess that I might have suspected it once or twice, but I imagined that you would tell me something  _ that _ important if that  _ were _ the case. But apparently  _ not _ .

“It’s great though,” continued Jamie, staring Eliza straight in the eye. Eliza was looking increasingly uncomfortable… and irritated. “In fact, I’d  _ love _ to hear a bit more about this Lexi character! So much to catch up on now that it’s out in the open! Which one is she then?”

Jamie peered across the room at the Slytherin table. 

“She’s sitting at the end of the table by the window,” said Eliza uneasily, “The girl with the long golden hair.”

“Hm,” said Jamie, turning back to her food. “Interesting. I never imagined you’d go for the blonde, girly type! I never really noticed her before.”

“She’s a sixth year…” said Eliza, now glowering across at Jamie. 

“Well,” said Jamie, with an edge to her voice that she hardly bothered to disguise, “Even still. She’s rather  _ plain _ Eliza, you could definitely do better.”

“ _ Excuse  _ me?” said Eliza, puffing up her full chest, “What about all the foul  _ creatures _ you’ve dated these past years? You want to compare  _ her _ to them?”

Andrea and Roger exchanged a dark look and both got up, not bothering to say farewell to the girls. They two didn’t fight very often, but when they did it was best to clear out. Andrea stole a glance at George, who had apparently noticed her getting up and was already smiling at her. He gave her a little salute and wink, then commenced shamelessly watching her backside. 

Andrea glared at him, but couldn’t help smiling. To both Andrea and George’s surprise Roger, chuckling to himself, turned and waved at George as well. George gave him a quick cheerful wave and turned back to his table.

“What?” said Roger, “I was right there for that whole interaction. You can’t expect me to just pretend I don’t notice  _ all  _ of the time.” 

The pair made their way through the entrance hall to head up to the third floor, as Friday meant double Advanced Charms in the morning with Professor Flitwick. They stopped short as they noticed a crowd of people hovering around the bulletin board, so they went over to investigate. Under Umbridge’s latest Educational Decree, a small notice had been pinned.

_ This Saturday, November the 4 _ _ th _ _ , a last minute trip to Hogsmeade has been scheduled. As per usual all those, third-year and above, with signed forms may gather in the entrance hall at 11:30am for departure. Please remember to stay on your best behavior so that these trips can continue to occur.  _

_ Deputy Headmistress,  _

_ Professor Minerva McGonagall  _

“Brilliant!” said Roger, as they headed to Charms, “I’ve been wanting to get out. It’d be nice to do something with Fay…”

After waiting a while for class to start at nine o’clock, Andrea and Roger paired up to enchant a tea set so that it would whir around the room serving tea, milk, and sugar on its own while maintaining the proper temperature. 

“I’m so glad we are learning practical, household skills,” said Andrea, whose tea set was practically assaulting Roger in excitement as it prepared a cup for him. The tea cups were pushing each other out of the way eagerly in Roger’s face, as the pot attempted to pour tea into whichever one was the stillest. 

“Hm,” said Roger, dodging the cream pitcher as it whirred around to fervently splash milk into his tea. “Well, I suppose this part is most applicable to  _ you _ …with your parents’ tea shop and all.”

“Come on, Roger,” said Andrea, leaping out of the way as someone else’s tea pot shot out a jet of boiling tea causing Flitwick to fly over, squeaking in alarm. “Do you really want to continue cooking like a muggle for the rest of your life? It’s so much easier if you learn how to enchant your tools. I’m looking forward to doing my laundry with a wave of my wand. Who wants to waste time with things like that? It leaves time for all the more ‘exciting’ stuff you’ve been wanting to work on.”

“Or,” said Roger, finishing his tea and waving away the bombardment of cups that were trying to shove themselves into his hand, “You could just take on a house elf as an investment.” 

“Well,” said Andrea, trying to rework her spell to make the tea set less aggressive, “Not  _ all _ of us are so privileged as to be able to afford to take on a house elf, even if we wanted to. In any case, I’d much rather be self-sufficient.” 

After Charms, Andrea decided to use her short break before lunch to visit Professor McGonagall. She stopped outside of McGonagall’s door and knocked quietly. Shortly after, McGonagall yanked open the door with an expression of utter fury until she realized who had knocked.

“Oh! Ms. Clearwater,” said McGonagall, putting a hand over her chest and bustling back to her desk with a short backward glance. “You gave me a start. I thought you were…Well, do come in and shut the door behind you if you please. In fact, Clearwater, go ahead and lock it.” 

Andrea obeyed and sat in the chair across from McGonagall, who looked like she was drowning in stacks of parchment. McGonagall placed a hand on her forehead in silence for a moment before sighing in obvious frustration and looking up at Andrea.

“Well, Ms. Clearwater,” said McGonagall shortly, “What is it that you would like to speak to me about?”

“Oh,” said Andrea, glancing around wondering if she had come at a bad time, “Nothing really, I just sort of got used to coming to see you last year during the…tutoring that we did and I wanted to come and say… ‘hi’.” 

It hadn’t really occurred to Andrea, on the way to this visit, that McGonagall was probably not very used to social visits, especially from students. McGonagall stared shrewdly at Andrea’s sheepish grin and suddenly whipped out her wand, summoned a large pot of tea and some biscuits out of midair, and placed them onto her desk. 

“Well,” said McGonagall, clearly somewhat pleased at having someone visit her who wasn’t demanding something of her, “I’m pleased you stopped by. I am in need of a short distraction from all of… _ this. _ ” 

McGonagall gestured indignantly at the enormous stack of parchment on the corner of her desk. 

“Is Umbridge giving you a hard time, Professor?” said Andrea carefully, though unable to disguise her disdain for the woman. 

“Is she!?” said McGonagall rolling her eyes contemptuously with a toss of her hand. “I do not like to speak ill of my colleagues in front of students, but that woman is a mockery of all this school stands for! Decree after decree! Bans on student groups – who ever has even heard of such a thing, and for what purpose!? Smug, arrogant - and she is brazen enough to interfere with my head-of-house duties!  _ Hmph _ !”

Andrea fought the intense urge to smile. She found Professor McGonagall somewhat adorable and relatable when she was cross. Andrea decided that McGonagall needed a change of subject.

“Do you think you’ll ever want to be Headmistress one day, Professor?” asked Andrea, “Or do you enjoy teaching too much?”

“Oh, believe me, dear girl,” said McGonagall taking a dramatic sip of her tea, “I certainly do not  _ enjoy _ teaching that much. Most students aren’t nearly as dedicated to their studies as you are.”

Andrea noticed that McGonagall had avoided answering her first question, and had busied herself munching on a biscuit.

“I only ask, Professor,” said Andrea carefully, “Because I will be done with school soon, and I just thought that maybe one day in the future you might be headmistress and I could maybe apply to teach Transfiguration before my parents retire and I have to take over our tea house business.”

McGonagall carefully scanned Andrea over her spectacles, her eyes somewhat softened. 

“Ms. Clearwater, as far as I’m concerned you could take the position  _ today _ if it were possible,” gesturing to the mess on her desk, “All jest aside, Ms. Clearwater, I think that there is a strong possibility, and I am quite pleased that you wish to teach at Hogwarts. I would be more than comfortable to hire you if I were in a position to do so.” 

“Well, thanks for the tea Professor,” said Andrea standing up, “I won’t keep you, I know you’re very busy. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Or perhaps in Hogsmeade?” said McGonagall, hurrying behind Andrea to lock the door after her. “I encourage you to enjoy these trips while you can. Who knows what that  _ woman _ might do next.”

With a grim expression, McGonagall shut the door behind Andrea, and she heard a loud  _ clunk _ as McGonagall locked her out. 

Andrea still had a little time before lunch started, so she decided to head to the library. She walked halfway down the first floor corridor when she noticed hushed voices coming from nearby in a niche behind a suit of armor. 

Andrea walked over to the suit of armor and peeked around into the niche to find none other than the Weasley twins and three fourth-year Hufflepuffs. The twins looked up and grinned identically at Andrea.

“Just in time!” said Fred, animatedly in a hushed voice, “We were just about to demonstrate our newest product to these lads here.”

“Skiving Snackboxes,” said George in an excited undertone, “Come, take a look!”

Fred was holding a box that resembled one used for assorted chocolates, but upon opening it revealed a variety of colorful sweets that Andrea knew were certainly  _ not _ chocolates. 

“Each box comes with Nosebleed Nougat, Puking Pastilles, Fainting Fancies, and Fever Fudge,” said Fred to the fourth years. 

“Just take a bite off of one end,” said George, indicating the purple half of one of the half-purple, half-yellow sweets, “And you’ll be ill enough that you’ll have to leave class.”

“And finish the other half once you get out of class and you’ll be as right as rain again in moments!” said Fred, impressively. 

“Andrea, you should demonstrate for them!” said George impishly. 

“Hm, I’ll have to pass,” said Andrea, crossing her arms, “Especially since Filch has banned all of your products. As a  _ prefect _ , I really ought to report you. Luckily for you boys I’m in a good mood, but I’d rather not waste my free time puking my guts out, so I think I’ll be off now.”

“Aw, Andi, don’t be like that!” said Fred, “We’d really benefit from you at least playing ‘look-out’ for us. Don’t go just yet, just a couple of minutes.”

“ _ Andi _ ?” said Andrea, bitterly, “I think not. See you boys.”

“Wait a sec,” said George, running after her, “I didn’t know you had a free period right now. Me and Fred have one too, but we’ve been spending it working on the business.”

“Well, we finished double Charms a bit early today, so I have a little extra time on my hands. My free period today is after lunch,” said Andrea smiling, “Good luck to you both – just don’t get caught.”

“Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” asked George quickly, before Andrea could walk away. 

“I probably will…” said Andrea, deliberately raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Come with me?” said George, beaming, “Please? We should go to Zonko’s and Three Broomsticks.”

“Like a date?” said Andrea, placing a hand on her hip with a smirk. 

“Yeah, definitely,” said George brightly, but running his fingers through his hair and swaying slightly on the spot. Andrea was sure that the tips of his ears had turned slightly pinker than usual. 

“Alright then,” said Andrea, quite pleased by her ability to make the usually impervious, George nervous. 

“Meet me by the One-Eyed Witch statue on the third floor tomorrow at eleven?” said George.

“Oi, Georgie!” called Fred, peeking out from behind the suit of armor. 

“See you then!” said Andrea, turning away feeling a bit smug. 

At the lunch bell, Andrea joined Roger at the Ravenclaw table and was pleased to see that Eliza and Jamie were at least still on speaking terms, despite the tangible tension between them. Fay had decided to eat lunch with them, and was cuddled up so closely with Roger that the pair of them had some difficulty eating. 

Andrea wasn’t talking to anyone at the moment, as she was busily finishing her Ancient Runes homework so that she wouldn’t have any left over the weekend and could enjoy her Hogsmeade outing with peace of mind. 

“Just so you all know,” said Elisa hotly, glancing at Jamie, “Lexi will be here soon. She wants to meet you all, so she and I can spend more time together.”

“If we keep sitting at other house’s tables,” said Jamie with a distinct air of condescension, “It kinda defeats the purpose of  _ having _ separate tables for each house in the first place.”

“It’s fine Jamie,” said Andrea, hoping to prevent another row, “I’m sure Lexi won’t want to sit with us for every meal anyway.”

“Here she comes now,” said Eliza, as a tall, pretty girl strode up to them from the double doors.

Jamie busied herself on her turkey sandwich as Lexi approached them all.

“Lexi, this is Andrea, Roger, his girlfriend Fay, and Jamie,” said Eliza, gesturing to each of them “Everyone, this is Lexi, my girlfriend.”

“Hey Lexi, nice to meet you,” said Roger importantly, standing up and reaching out and shaking her hand enthusiastically.

“Hey!” said Andrea with a quick smile before returning half of her focus to her homework.  
Jamie turned and waved with an insincere smile before turning back to her plate. 

“Hello everyone,” said Lexi mildly, sitting down between Jamie and Eliza. 

“So, Jamie,” said Lexi, looking sideways at Jamie, “I hear that you’re the best friend?”

“That’s right,” said Jamie without looking up and taking another bite of her sandwich. 

The silence that followed carried a palpable tension, so Andrea fully engrossed herself with the last of her homework. After a few minutes, Jamie suddenly interrupted Eliza and Lexi’s conversation.

“Is Lexi short for Alexis, Alexa, or… what?” said Jamie, with narrowed eyes, cutting Lexi off. 

“No,” said Lexi, slowly, “Just Lexi. Hey Eliza, I think I’m going to go back to the Slytherin table. I think I’ve had enough for today.”

“Oh… alright,” said Eliza.

After Lexi had walked a good distance away, Eliza rounded on Jamie.

“ _ Why _ did you treat her so rudely??” said Eliza, her eyes welling up with tears.

“I didn’t do anything!” said Jamie defensively, “I asked a simple question.”

“You behaved like a  _ brat _ !” spat Eliza, her glasses nearly falling off, “I never thought you could have betrayed me like that.” 

“Betrayed  _ you _ ? You know what?!” hissed Jamie, “Well, maybe I  _ am  _ kind of hurt that you didn’t tell me about what you had going on, so I  _ apologize  _ if I came across a bit coarse! Why didn’t you tell me Eliza? I thought we told each other everything. I thought you  _ trusted _ me!” 

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you I was gay?” said Eliza, trembling with rage, “I was afraid you might get some idea that I fancied  _ you _ or something. I didn’t want to put a barrier in our friendship.” 

“Well, what do you think you’ve done _now_?” said Jamie standing up, tears welling in her eyes, “And why would you fancying me have been _such_ a dreadful thing anyway?!” 

Jamie rushed off, leaving Eliza dumbstruck, and all the nearby Ravenclaws stared in silence. 

After Arithmancy later that afternoon, Andrea set up her notes on a table in the common room near the library niche to finish the newest Arithmancy chart that had been assigned for the weekend. She had hoped to avoid Eliza and Jamie after their lunchtime row.

Both girls had avoided each other on their own at dinner; Jamie had decided to talk with Holly and Padma Patil, while Andrea and Roger chatted. Eliza had remained silent and weepy throughout the meal despite their attempts at including her.

Andrea had nearly finished her chart by the time the common room filled with people who were gathering in small groups and animatedly discussing their plans for Hogsmeade the next day. Luna Lovegood wandered through passing out her father’s magazines, yet again. Luna was such a sweet girl that Andrea nearly always accepted her magazine despite that most of what was written in it was complete rubbish.

Andrea quickly shifted her focus back to her homework when she saw Jamie come down the stairs from the girls’ dormitories, scanning the room shrewdly. Spotting Andrea, Jamie strode over and sat down next to her.

“Hey,” said Jamie, watching the other Ravenclaws mill about, “Eliza has just informed me that she and  _ Lexi  _ will be going to Hogsmeade together. So are Roger and Fay. So I guess it’s just going to be us tomorrow.”

“Actually Jamie,” said Andrea cautiously, “George actually asked me to go with him, as a date, tomorrow. We can still meet up though, it’s not like we all aren’t going to the same place!”

“Oh!?” said Jamie, looking half disappointed and half pleased, “Well, that’s fine, I’ll just go with Holly and Kate then.”

Andrea had the feeling that Holly and Kate didn’t really want Jamie getting in the way of their incessant private conversations. 

“Go with Luna!” said Andrea, pointing over at Luna who was humming to herself as she picked up one of her radish earrings that had fallen to the floor. “She’s charming and interesting. Never a dull moment with her.”

“Hm,” said Jamie, raising her eyebrows dubiously, “I don’t think I’m that desperate yet. It’s fine. I always find someone I like anyway.”

After finishing her homework, Andrea decided to play a game of chess with Jamie before bed. Jamie won easily, as she had plenty of practice playing Roger most evenings. Roger was the better chess player, so beating Andrea clearly improved Jamie’s mood significantly; she decided to spend the rest of the evening flirting with a small group of sixth year boys who all gaped at her as she chatted away at them. Jamie was quite beautiful and charismatic, so she could easily have the attention of nearly any boy she wanted and toy with them to her heart’s content. 

Andrea awoke the next day to find Hugin suspiciously prodding her recently enchanted stone raven as it hopped at him, snapping its beak aggressively. 

“ _ Suprabhat, mera chhota ladaka,” _ said Andrea with a yawn, scooping up Hugin, holding him like a baby, and tugging on his little black toes. It was a bright, cloudless day – perfect for a walk down to Hogsmeade in her thick cloak. 

Andrea dressed and let Hugin hop onto her shoulder before heading out of her empty dormitory. The common room was also relatively cleared out – everyone was undoubtedly at breakfast already. Andrea checked her watch, which read ten forty-five. She had allowed herself to sleep in a little more than she had intended, so now she would have to wait until Hogsmeade to get some food if she wanted to meet George on time. 

Andrea and Hugin (perched on her shoulder) made their way to the third floor corridor, stopping in front of the One-Eyed Witch statue at exactly eleven o’clock. There was no sign of George anywhere, so Andrea leaned against a nearby wall. After about ten minutes, Hugin grew impatient at sitting still for so long, croaked, and flew out of an adjacent window. 

Andrea was beginning to worry that they would not make it to the lineup in the entrance hall at eleven thirty when George rounded a nearby corner. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” said George smoothly with a cocky grin as he approached. “Sorry I’m a tad late, I waited till this morning to tell Fred I wouldn’t be able to do any sales with him today at Hogsmeade like we’d planned. He was a little bugged, but he’ll get over it.”

“It’s alright,” said Andrea, turning to head down the corridor to the Grand Staircase, “We just have to hurry now if we are going to make it over with the group.” 

“Ah! But that’s where you’re wrong, Ms. Clearwater,” said George slyly, taking her by the hand and leading her back to the statue. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? We’ve got other ways –  _ better _ ways.”

“We? Who we?” said Andrea, completely confused, “You and Fred? What are you talking about?”

“Yes, me and Fred. Sorry – I generally think in terms of ‘we’ because Fred and I usually do everything together,” said George, leading Andrea behind the statue. 

George took out his wand, pointed at the hump of the One Eyed Witch and cleared his throat pointedly before turning to Andrea. 

“Watch and learn, Ms. Clearwater,” said George, turning before turning back to the statue and muttering, “ _ Dissendium. _ ” 

Andrea watched in amazement as the statue’s hump lifted up like a trap door, revealing a dark tunnel. 

“Does this lead to Hogsmeade? Is this how you’ve been smuggling in butterbeer?” asked Andrea, aghast. 

“ _ Shh _ ! Don’t tell!” said George, winking. “Ladies first?”

George lifted Andrea so that she was sitting on his right shoulder and he pointed her feet into the dark hole at the top of the statue.

“George,” said Andrea, fear gripping her in the pit of her stomach, “Is this  _ safe _ ?”

“Sure,” said George smiling up at her, “No worries!”

Without warning, George tipped Andrea forward, and she slid down into the dark tunnel before tumbling down onto a dusky earth floor below. Before she had acclimated to the darkness, George landed softly on his feet behind her. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” said George, pulling Andrea to her feet. “I probably should have warned you first.”

“Yes, I daresay you should have,” said Andrea looking around the dark earthen passage.

“Onward! This way!” said George, leading Andrea by the hand down the sloping tunnel. 

They walked for what felt like a very long time in the darkness before, finally, Andrea could see steps ahead.

“Where does this come out?” said Andrea, thankful that George couldn’t see her cheeks which were feeling quite flushed from holding his hand for so long. 

“Honeydukes,” said George, leading the way up the stone steps, “In the cellar. Usually there’s no one down there, but I’ll just have a peek first to be sure.”

At the top of the stairs was a trap door, which George slowly opened a sliver and looked around at the floor above. 

“All clear, I’d say,” said George, “We’ve just got to make a run for it so they don’t catch us down here.”

George opened the door and helped Andrea out of the passage into a large room full of boxes and crates of a variety of sweets. The trap door was barely visible on the floor once it had been shut behind them, and Andrea doubted that she would be able to find it again without George’s help. 

“Come on,” whispered George, leading the way up a set of stairs that undoubtedly lead to the main shop. 

At the top of the stairs, he opened the door a crack and, after determining that the time was right, suddenly pulled Andrea through the door into the crowded sweets shop. Andrea senses were instantly flooded with chatter, bright colors, and the familiar sweet smell of caramelizing sugar. 

“Not bad, eh?” said George who was standing nearby, eyeing a barrel of pink coconut ice. 

“Not bad at all,” said Andrea, who was suddenly reminded of how insanely hungry she was becoming. “I’m going to get some food. I haven’t eaten yet, and I want to restock my supply of sweets while we’re here.” 

Andrea purchased a cauldron cake, to hold her over until lunch, as well as some pepper imps, fudge flies, and exploding bon bons. George tried to slip a large handful of cockroach clusters into her shopping basket, but she noticed them as she added several sugar quills to her load. 

At check out, George ordered two cones of butterbeer flavored no-melt ice cream. Outside Honeydukes, George handed Andrea her cone before suggesting that they go into Zonko’s Joke Shop. With Andrea’s hunger satisfied by her cauldron cake and the large cone of ice cream she was now eating, Andrea watched as George eagerly rushed around Zonko’s scooping up handfuls of dung-bombs and browsing the shelves for new products. 

Spending this much time with George was both pleasant and surreal, as most of her interactions with him in the past had been relatively short-lived. The twins were always rushing about from one thing to the next, and it was hard for them to sit still for too long. It was even harder to see the twins apart from each other, which made it all the more odd-feeling to have the whole day ahead of her to spend with George alone. 

When George returned to Andrea, who was seated near the door out of the way of the crowd of boys that were milling about, he carried a bulging bag of dung bombs in one hand and his nearly-finished ice cream cone in the other. 

“Where to now, Clearwater?” said George playfully as he held the door open for her and they stepped back out into the cold. 

“As soon as I finish this ice cream I’m going to want something warm to drink,” said Andrea, sitting down on a nearby bench munching on what was left of her ice cream cone. 

“Alright, Three Broomsticks then,” said George, who had made surprisingly good time on his ice cream, wiping his hands clean on the side of his leg. 

Andrea sat back, watching the street bustling with Hogwarts students. She noticed Roger going into Madam Pudifoot’s dreaded tea shop a ways down the street with Fay on his arm. Andrea looked over at George, who was sitting next to her with a contented smile on his face, completely at ease to people-watch in silence. 

For a moment, Andrea considered scooting closer to him, but the butterflies in her stomach grew to a nauseating level at the thought and prevented her from acting. Andrea thought that it had somehow been so much easier dating people that she didn’t know as well at the start. 

“Ready?” said George, noticing that Andrea had finished her ice cream and was watching him. 

Andrea agreed and they hurried over to the Three Broomsticks pub, which was sweltering inside and already quite crowded with students and townspeople alike. Andrea and George took a seat at the bar in front of Madam Rosemerta, the landlady, and ordered two butterbeers and a round of fire whiskey. 

As George sipped at his tankard of hot, foamy butterbeer, Andrea shot back her firewhiskey in a single gulp.

“Merlin’s beard!” said George, almost choking on his butterbeer, looking down at Andrea’s empty glass, “Not bad for a Ravenclaw! That stuff is powerful!”

“Hm? Yeah, it’s alright,” said Andrea, taking a sip of her butterbeer. “I’ll be ready for another in a minute or so.”

“You know what? That gives me an idea.” said George eagerly, “Let’s play a drinking game? What d’ya say?”

“Hm… I don’t know” said Andrea. She had played drinking games with the twins a couple of times in group settings before, and she knew how dirty they played. 

“Oh come on!” said George, “I know you can take me! Your tolerance is great. Anyway, we don’t have to play any of the brutal games. How about…truth or drink?” 

“That’s not fair!” said Andrea, “You’re  _ so _ much less secretive than I am!”

“You think so?” said George, raising an eyebrow.

Andrea eyed George suspiciously, as he gave her an ‘innocent’ smile. The whiskey had done a well enough job, and Andrea felt much fewer butterflies than before, so she resolved to play for a little while. After charming Madam Rosemerta into believing that he wouldn’t take it back to the castle, George bought an entire bottle of firewhiskey and placed it in between them. 

“You sure are good at getting your way aren’t you?” said Andrea, filling up her shot glass to the brim.

“You know it,” said George slyly. “Go ahead and ask first – as a gesture of good will.”

Even though it was her turn to ask, Andrea took a shot of whisky to calm her nerves and refilled her glass before thinking about what she would ask. George’s eyes flicked around the room, watching people come and go and occasionally waving and grinning at people that he knew. 

“Okay,” said Andrea, making up her mind. “How long have you fancied me?”

“Ah, let’s see…” said George, counting on his fingers. “Three years? Yeah. Sounds about right.”

“Oh… Then why did you set me up with Oliver?” said Andrea.

“Not your turn anymore now is it, Clearwater,” said George with a little smirk. “Now, let’s see then… Did you sleep with that Durmstrang bloke last year?”

“No!” said Andrea hotly. “I certainly didn’t. Now tell me, why did you set me up with Oliver if  _ you _ fancied me, then?”

George turned his shot glass thoughtfully between his fingers before throwing it back. George looked silently at Andrea, as she sat there, surprised that he had chosen not answer such a simple question.

“Not wholly my secret to tell I’m afraid,” said George, taking a shot. “Next question: How long have you fancied  _ me _ ?” 

Andrea took a shot.

“Come on!” said George, throwing up his arms. “I told  _ you _ !”

“That’s not how the game works, is it?” said Andrea.

“Fine, go then,” said George.

Andrea was starting to really notice the effects of the firewhiskey kicking in. She felt the characteristic burning sensation creeping up on her as well as a distinct decrease in her anxiety. She reached out and briefly touched George’s face, causing him to doubletake slightly.

“Do you think I’m  _ sexy _ ?” said Andrea giggling and raising her eyebrow mischievously.

“Incredibly,” said George, sitting up a little straighter and scooting his stool a little closer to her. In spite of answering her question, he took another shot.

“Would you do it again?” said George quietly, staring intently at Andrea. 

“Do  _ what _ again?” said Andrea coyly, taking a small sip of her drink.

George looked around in exasperation, reddening a little in the ears. 

“Would you  _ sleep _ with me again?” said George in a low tone.

“Sleep? I don’t recall ever spending the night at your mum’s house for as much as a nap, George,” said Andrea smiling slyly. She was enjoying this immensely, and the firewhiskey made her feel wonderful.

“Ugh!” said George with a frustrated chuckle, “You  _ know _ what I mean, insolent girl, now answer the damn question.” 

Andrea slowly turned so that she was fully facing George, stared deeply into his hazelnut-brown eyes, and took a shot. Andrea couldn’t help herself – she burst out laughing and was giggling so hard that a quite few people looked over at her, including Professor McGonagall who was sitting at a booth not far away. 

“You’re  _ so _ naughty,” said George, sounding slightly annoyed, but mostly impressed. 

“I think we ought to stop playing now,” said Andrea, wiping away tears of laughter and pulling herself together after seeing the startled look on McGonagall’s face. 

“Yeah, probably. Especially since I expect you’ll drink yourself to the ground before you answer all of my questions,” said George with a smirk.

Just then, the doors of the Three Broomsticks opened, with a cold gust of wind, and Fred, Angelina, and Lee Jordan entered the pub. The twins nodded at each other from across the room, but Andrea couldn’t help but wonder if Fred wasn’t still irritated at George for blowing him off. The three sat down in a booth at the other side of the pub.

“He’s jealous of me stealing you from him,” said Andrea, watching Fred order a round of butterbeer. 

“That’s part of it,” said George draining the last of his butterbeer from his tankard. “The other part is cuz we’ve got the same taste in most things, including women.”

Surprised, Andrea gaped at George, waiting for further explanation. 

“The main reason we decided to introduce you to Wood, besides the fact that Oliver found you attractive, was because we both fancied you,” said George, shrugging, “It’s kinda different having a twin. We share a lot more than most siblings. We’re almost like one person in some ways. And when we find something that we can’t share, we usually end up having to let it go. But that was before Angelina. He fancies her and I don’t.”

“Are they together, then?” asked Andrea, not knowing what else to say. 

“Nah,” said George, glancing back. “Nothing much happened after the ball. I figure he doesn’t want to mess things up between them. Especially now that she’s team captain. Not that it will matter much now that neither of us can play. She’s been holding out for him, though, I reckon. Lee asked her out about seven-hundred times already, and she’s always turned him down.” 

“At least you both can focus more on your business now,” said Andrea, after ordering a second butterbeer from Madam Rosemerta. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” said George eagerly; he always lit up when he talked about Wesley’s Wizard Wheezes. “We’ve actually rented the attic above the Hog’s Head pub, down the way, to keep the bulk of our products. We’ve got a mail-order business already up and running. We hope to open up a shop before too long!”

“That’s great,” said Andrea, leaning forward, resting her chin on her fist, “Do you have a place in mind yet, or is it still too soon?”

“Actually we  _ do _ ,” said George with a twinkle in his eye, “Right down the street from your parents’ shop in Diagon Alley. So you can expect to continue to see a lot of us – even after Hogwarts.” 

This was certainly news to Andrea, and the implications behind his words slowly became apparent to her, even through her whiskey haze. He meant that he wanted to continue seeing her, perhaps even after they left Hogwarts. Andrea’s heart fluttered.

“Oh…wow,” said Andrea, looking back at George who was studying her closely, “That’s nice. I can come and visit you guys sometime…”

“Hopefully often,” said George, winking at Andrea and taking a large gulp of butterbeer. “You hungry? I’m starved. Let’s get some lunch.” 

After eating lunch, Andrea and George decided it was too stifling to stay inside the Three Broomsticks any longer, so they headed out into the chilly street. 

Andrea and George wandered past the misty windows of Hogsmeade, when about half way down the street, they heard shouting and an odd screeching noise of metal on metal. 

A plump little wizard appeared around a curve shouting chasing after an out of control wagon that was carrying about twenty wooden barrels that swayed precariously on top of it. The doors of the shops opened as students and patrons spilled out onto the street to see what all the commotion was about. 

The cart was moving very fast, and before the wizard could stop it, the cart smashed against a pillar in the middle of the lane – right in front of where Andrea and George were standing.

The barrels tumbled off of the wagon and smashed on the cobblestones below. A pink goo slowly oozed out of the barrels and began swelling up like great sticky pink clouds. Before Andrea knew what had happened, George lifted her up and sat him atop one of his shoulders, balancing her by holding onto her waist with a hand. His quick thinking prevented what appeared to be masses of wet, rapidly expanding bubble gum dough from sticking all over her boots and robes. 

George held her up for a while, as the owner of Honeydukes came out to reprimand the wagon man for destroying what was apparently his order. Many students were pointing and laughing good-naturedly at the sight of Andrea perched on top of a grinning George’s shoulder, surrounded by pink swelling puffs. 

Several wizards rushed over and quickly magicked away the mess. After most of the stickiness was gone, George shifted his weight to rotate Andrea so that she was facing him and slowly slid her down his front. He secured an arm under her bum, holding her to his chest for a moment before letting the black boots Jamie had gotten for her touch down on the cobblestones. 

They were pressed together still, face to face, with George’s arms around Andrea, and one of her arms still around his neck.

“Oi! Weasley!” shouted Lee Jordan from outside the Three Broomsticks, as a significant number of people were still watching them curiously, “Kiss her, mate!” 

Several people laughed at this, but George looked down into Andrea’s eyes, smiling playfully. His grip around her waist tightened slightly, and he slowly leaned down and kissed her slowly and tenderly. 

Andrea was aware of at least a few people cat-calling as she fervently returned his kiss. George leaned back to look at her again, as if to make sure she was still there before laughing happily, taking her face in his hands, and kissing her even more deeply. 

After a moment, Andrea and George stepped back from each other, joined hands, and continued walking down the street away from the crowd. Andrea looked back to see Jamie and Roger standing next to each other, talking excitedly, and cheerfully laughing and pointing in her direction as they did so. 

Jamie noticed Andrea’s gaze and caught her eye, beaming, jumping up and down on the spot, and dramatically fanning herself with both hands like a schoolgirl at a boyband show. 

“Well,” said Andrea, laughing, “There goes all sense of secrecy.”

“Well, we still have secrets, no?” said George naughtily, as they looked for somewhere a little more private to spend the rest of their afternoon in Hogsmeade. 


	9. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: Oct 4 2020

The next few weeks whirred by in a happy blur – Andrea spent most of her free periods in the library with George, but they got little studying done. Occasionally, they would get lucky and find a deserted classroom to snog in, but usually they would sneak it in behind the bookshelves farthest away from wherever Madam Pince was lurking. Fred, however, was becoming increasingly irritated with the two of them, as Andrea and George’s snogging often got in the way of clandestine sales opportunities.

Fred’s latest way of making his frustration known to Andrea was his frequent commenting on her supposed sexual prowess and making cheeky remarks about her “feminine appeal.” Andrea was grateful that Fred at least refrained from these comments in Herbology, as Andrea had a feeling that Angelina might be a little less friendly towards her thereafter if she heard them. Of course, Andrea knew Fred well enough to know that he meant nothing by it, other than to mock her, but it still made her uncomfortable nevertheless.

One Friday December afternoon, several weeks after Andrea’s trip to Hogsmeade, Andrea and George rushed into the Great Hall together and took their respective seats at the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables for dinner after an especially close call in the library where Madam Pince nearly caught them snogging in the _Funguses_ section. She rounded their bookshelf just in time for George to feign interest in reading a book on toadstools, so Andrea and George decided it was best to call it a day.

Roger was seated across from Jamie and Eliza, quite unperturbed by his recent breakup with Fay, discussing his plans for the Christmas break which would start in about two weeks’ time.

“I expect Father will want to spend Christmas in the country,” said Roger, “I do hope so. We don’t get out to our country home often enough in the summer. Hey, Andrea.”

“How’s George?” said Jamie pointedly, shooting a rather snide glance at Eliza who continued cutting up her lamb chop without looking up.

“Oh… He’s good,” said Andrea, feeling like she was missing something.

“See, Eliza?” said Jamie, “ _Andrea_ doesn’t mind when I ask how _her_ significant other is doing? It’s no big deal.”

While Jamie and Eliza were back on speaking terms, they certainly had put some distance between themselves. They generally didn’t speak about the fight that had happened in the Great Hall the month before, but that didn’t mean they could resist making jabbing comments at each other now and then.

“ _You_ asked with quite a different spirit about Lexi,” snapped Eliza, turning her attention to Andrea. “Roger was just telling us he’s going to be spending the holidays with his family this year. What are your plans? I’m trying to decide whether I want to visit my grandparents in Spain or spend my last Christmas at Hogwarts _at_ Hogwarts.”

“I’m torn, too,” said Andrea, “My parents and Frida want me to come home, though. I miss them too… But who knows, this may not be my last Christmas at Hogwarts. McGonagall said she would hire me to teach Transfiguration after she replaces Dumbledore.”

“Brilliant!” said Roger, beaming, “I’d bet it’s rather odd coming back here as a Professor.”

“Oh look, Andrea,” said Jaime, perking up, “Here comes George!”

Andrea turned in her seat to see Fred sauntering up to the table, flashing his cocky grin at her.

“That’s not George, it’s Fred,” said Andrea, wondering what he could possibly be doing. He had never paid her a visit by himself before.

“ _How_ can you tell that?” said Jamie, indignantly, but Fred had already stopped in front of Andrea and Roger.

“Hey, hey ladies – and Captain Prefect,” said Fred lightheartedly. 

“Why is he _Captain_ Prefect?” said Jamie, laughing at Roger’s annoyed face. “Andrea’s a prefect too!”

“Well, darling,” said Fred charmingly, “That’s because this bloke here is not only a prefect, but he’s the Quidditch captain for your team. I reckon the team just might have a little more flare if he _weren’t_ a prefect.”

“Well, it shouldn’t make much of a difference to _you_ anymore, should it?” said Roger pompously, “Considering you’ve gone off and gotten yourself banned for life.”

“What _is_ it, Fred?” said Andrea, refocusing the conversation. Fred looked as if he would like to dump Roger’s pumpkin juice on his head, but quickly seemed to think the better of it.

“Ah yes, back to business,” said Fred, turning his back to Roger, “I had a couple things I wanted to chat with you about – just you and me, what do you say?”

Andrea glanced back at the Gryffindor table where George was laughing heartily with Dean Thomas and his friend Seamus. She couldn’t imagine what Fred could possibly say, but George didn’t seem concerned.

“Alright then,” said Andrea, “Let’s sit at the end of the table over there by the doors.”

“Lead the way then,” said Fred, sweeping back for Andrea to pass.

Once seated at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, Fred sat himself sideways in his seat next to Andrea and smiled at her.

“Right then,” said Fred, drumming the table, “I just wanted to get to the source of the problem since George hasn’t been thinking properly.”

“The source of what problem?” said Andrea, “And are you saying that I’m the source?”

“No offence, of course!” said Fred raising his hands defensively, “It’s just George and I have a business to run, as you know well enough, and these little library excursions of yours are, frankly, getting in the way of that.”

Andrea glared at Fred in silence, reddening slightly.

“Hey now, I’d get it if it was only once or twice a week,” said Fred laughing, “But every day, Andrea?”

“I’m not going to change anything on your account,” said Andrea stiffly, “This sounds like a problem between you and George.”

“ _Yes,_ but he won’t hear sense!” said Fred, dramatically, “He’s not thinking with his _primary_ head if you get my meaning. I reckon you must be a real treat for George to want to do nothing but snog you for a month straight. Poor bloke! You’re teasing the man, Andrea!”

“What on _earth_ are you trying to say?” said Andrea, taken aback.

“When I asked him about it, he told me you two haven’t _gotten it on_ lately – not since that time on Halloween,” said Fred, slyly, “And now you’ve got him crazy for more, I can see, by pressing those rosy lips and voluptuous body of yours all over the man! ”

Andrea struggled for words for a moment, as in the midst of all of Fred’s complaints and accusations, she was rather stunned by his absurd compliments. It was getting harder to interact with Fred now that she had been spending so much time with George. Even though Andrea could differentiate between the twins, they _were_ completely identical, meaning that many of the same physical responses that she had while looking at George, she also had while looking at Fred.

“I _hardly_ see how it’s any of _your_ business where I put any portion of my body!” hissed Andrea, slightly flustered, “You’re just jealous because you haven’t had that kind of _intimacy_ before with anyone! Don’t take that out on me or on him! And don’t pretend that this is all about your business when it’s plainly _not._ ”

“Ha!” said Fred, leaning back appraising Andrea thoughtfully, “You know what – maybe you’re right, Clearwater. You’re definitely as smart as you look. In fact, the only reason I know you two haven’t gotten it on since Halloween is because I asked George if we could switch places for a quickie, but he said no – he said he wouldn’t trick you like that. I didn’t see any harm in it though! I pull off a George imitation with Mum all the time! And she’s our _mother_ and she doesn’t know the difference _!_ ”

“You suggested _what?!”_ said Andrea, completely outraged at Fred’s limitless mischief. “Let it be known that I can _tell_ who is who, Fred! You and George might _think_ you’re the same but you’re not! He was quite right to have said no, and if he hadn’t it would have _not_ turned out well for him or for _you._ What do you think of me? That I’m just on call for your amusement? I thought we were friends!”

“Oh Andrea,” said Fred, lightheartedly, “Come on! It’s not like that. Don’t complicate things! I have boundless respect for you, Andrea, really – but you called me out, and now I’m just telling you how it is. You’re a beautiful witch, and I’m a curious wizard. It’s that simple. And I just so happen to look _exactly_ like your boyfriend!”

Andrea glared venomously at Fred, but was lost for words.

“Tell me, Andrea,” said Fred, scooting closer to Andrea to speak softly into her ear, his chest almost touching her shoulder, “Are you _not_ attracted to me as well? I’ve seen how you gawk at old Georgie, and unless that’s all for show, I have a feeling you find me equally as exciting.”

Andrea quickly scooted away from Fred as she cursed her racing heart. He almost smelled like George too.

“I won’t dignify that with a response,” said Andrea, looking anywhere but at Fred, “Also, I _doubt_ that George would appreciate his brother _coming on_ to the woman he’s seeing like this. I think you’re naïve.”

“He’s not jealous of _me_!” said Fred, laughing, “If I were Bill, Charlie, or even pratty Percy, then yeah – but George and I are flesh and blood in a way that you’ll never understand. Anyway Andrea, I’m not trying to steal you away or anything, I simply wanted to test the waters, as it were. I get why George wouldn’t want to disrespect you by switching places with me, but maybe you’d both be more open to trying out one of those French constructs. Y’know, us two and you? Two for the price of one? Double the trouble? _Twins_ – most ladies would go crazy for such an offer!”

Andrea could tell that Fred was trying to sound like he was joking, but Andrea feared that he secretly meant it and meant to see if she was open to it. Well, he would learn shortly just how she felt about it.

“ _Well_ ,” said Andrea, standing up and glowering at Fred, “It’s a good thing I’m not ‘ _most ladies’_ then, isn’t it?”

“Aw, Andrea,” said Fred, “Don’t be mad, I really meant no offence!”

“Well, too bad. I’m offended anyway,” said Andrea, stalking back to sit beside her friends.

“What did _he_ want?” said Jamie, raising a perfectly plucked ginger eyebrow.

“He was just spouting nonsense,” said Andrea, stabbing her egg with unnecessary force, “As per usual.”

“I am really still just _so_ impressed that you can tell the difference between them!” said Jamie, seemingly oblivious to Andrea’s mood, staring dreamily at the twins over at the Gryffindor table. “To me they look _the same_. And both are _hot_. You’re lucky, Andrea, to have the attention of the two hottest guys in the school!”

“I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” grumbled Andrea, trying to ignore the similarity of Jamie’s last statement to Fred’s lunatic ramblings.

“ _Nor_ would _I! Hmph_!” said Roger indignantly. “Sure, they are smart-looking enough. But they’re not very refined now are they? There are _plenty_ other chaps here who are comparable or better than them.”

“Aww!” laughed Jamie, “Roger’s jealous! How cute! Oh Roger, I was only exaggerating. You’re _hot_ too!”

Eliza rolled her eyes at Jamie as Roger gave Jamie a high-five as thanks for boosting his ego. Not like he really needed it.

The friends left the Great Hall to head up to Ravenclaw Tower, but Andrea waited in the entrance hall to say good night to George. To Andrea’s horror, when the twins sauntered out of the Great Hall and walked towards her, she had no idea which one was George. After a moment Fred broke out of his best “George” impression and winked devilishly at Andrea before leaving Andrea and George and bounded up the marble stairs.

“ _Hey_ lovely,” said George with a roguish grin and hovering closely over her, completely unaware of Fred’s trickery. “You busy this weekend? I’d love to see some more of _you_.”

“I’ve got some homework,” said Andrea, reaching out and playing gently with the tips of George’s long fingers. “I wanted to talk to you though – about Fred.”

“About Fred?” said George, straightening up, “Alright then, go ahead. What’s up with Fred?”

“He told me that he thinks we spend too much time together, that I’m getting in the way of your business, and then basically ended the discussion by suggesting that the _three_ of us… you know? To satisfy his curiosities.”

“Wow!” said George, scratching his head and screwing up his face, “Well, he has been kinda impatient about certain things lately in general, so I guess I shouldn’t be _that_ surprised. Are trying to say that’s something that you would want?”

“Are you _saying_ ,” said Andrea, astounded, after realizing that George was serious, “that you are actually _okay_ with that??”

“Well, I don’t particularly _want_ to, but I guess I’m not too opposed to it if that’s something that _you_ would want. _But_ ,” said George, seeing the look on Andrea’s face, “I can see that you _don’t_ so, _er_ , let’s just not worry about it, then! He was probably just joking anyway!”

“ _How_ could you say that?” hissed Andrea, “How could you be alright with me sleeping with your brother? You and Fred keep saying ‘we’re the same, we’re the same,’ but you know what _George,_ you _aren’t_ the same! Not at all! Inside you are completely different people. I am involved with you, because it’s _you_ that I fancy.”

“You may not understand us,” said George, “but like I said before, Fred and I are a unit. But you don’t have to do _anything_ Fred wants. I just want you, that’s all. All I was saying was that if you were curious… I wouldn’t mind one way or the other.”

“Ugh!” said Andrea, rubbing her aching forehead, “I’ve had enough of all this ridiculous, hypothetical, boorish conversation. I’m going up to the common room to relax.”

“Andrea, I’m sorry,” said George, taking Andrea by the hand, “Please don’t be upset. I never meant to offend you.”

She let him pull her into his arms. He kept an arm around her waist while he held the nape of her neck with a hand and gazed into her unusual amber eyes.

“George…” said Andrea, quietly, secretly submitting to his touch. “You have to be careful, Umbridge or Snape might see us – we are in a very public place.”

“Yeah, well,” said George, leaning slowly closer, “I need this tonight – and so do you. I can’t stand spending the evening thinking you’re upset.”

He kissed her softly and slowly, and too soon, he released her. Andrea glanced nervously around the empty entrance hall. They slowly made their way up to the Grand Staircase and stopped at the fork where they would go their separate ways.

“Alright, George,” said Andrea, glad to move past their conflict, “Let’s forget about it, then. Thanks for being so honest with me at least. I do appreciate it.”

“Of course!” said George with a little wink, “I’ll miss you tonight.”

Andrea laughed, before starting up the stairs on the right.

“You too, George,” said Andrea quietly, then turned her back to him and made her way up to Ravenclaw Tower.

She knew, of course, that Fred was right about at least one thing. George was getting restless. His kisses were hungrier, and she had to slow things down much more often than she did a few weeks ago. He was wanting to be close to her again, even though he wouldn’t say so.

Andrea certainly couldn’t deny that she felt the same way, but there hadn’t exactly been any good opportunities; especially with Umbridge’s grip on the school’s policies slowly tightening. Andrea certainly was _not_ going to sneak into the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory again.

When Andrea entered the Ravenclaw common room, she was greeted by the sound of raucous laughter. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team and their many supporters were drinking elf-made wine in celebration of a particularly successful team practice yesterday evening. Jamie, apparently quite tipsy, ran over to Andrea as soon as she laid eyes on her.

“Andrea, my _love_ ,” slurred Jamie, smiling quite adorably, “I’m so _happy_ you showed up! Come, have a drink!”

“Alright,” said Andrea, not able to pass up an opportunity to drink some of the finest wine in the wizarding world for free - not to mention to help her forget the absurd conversation she had just had with George.

Jamie stuffed a very full glass into Andrea’s hand and pulled her onto the couch next to her.

“He’s the _captain_ , Andrea!” said Jamie thickly, pointing to Roger, who was pouring himself another glass of wine and smiling at them vaguely. “Did you _know_ that?”

“Yes Jamie,” laughed Andrea, “I did know, and so did _you_! How much have you had to drink?”

“A couple glasses,” said Jamie, raising an eyebrow importantly, “It’s _elf_ made.”

Eliza, who was sitting close by sipping on her own glass and reading a novel, peeked over the top of her book and sniggered at Jamie.

“What’s all this, Roger?” said Andrea, “Did you guys even practice today? I thought that was yesterday.”

“It _was_ yesterday, but _today_ is Friday!” said Roger, who also had apparently already downed a few glasses himself. “We couldn’t drink on a school night!”

“He’s a responsible one,” said Jamie seriously.

“I see,” said Andrea, biting back a smile.

Someone behind Andrea turned on some music, and the Weird Sisters’ “This is the Night” started playing.

“Ooo! I _love_ this song! Don’t you??” said Jamie excitedly sloshing her wine, “Roger, do you dance?”

Jamie jumped up, grabbed Roger, nearly knocking his wine out of his hand, and they started dancing happily along with the music.

“ _Look_ everyone,” said Jamie with a naughty grin, to apparently no one but Andrea, “I’m dancing with our _dashing_ Quidditch captain.”

“And _I’m_ dancing with the _finest_ Irishwoman in the school,” said Roger with a smooth smirk, twirling Jamie to the music and back to him.

“You’re a _cutie pie_ ,” said Jamie, tapping her finger playfully on the tip of Roger’s nose with each word.

Before Andrea knew what had happened, Jamie’s arms were suddenly around Roger’s neck and the two swayed on the spot, _snogging._ Eliza and Andrea both stared transfixed at the pair of them, arms wrapped around each other and eating each other’s faces.

Finally, Roger pulled back grinning at Jamie like a complete rascal. The two stared at each other, smiling like fools for a moment, before both bursting out into loud cackles. Then, Jamie put her head on Roger’s shoulder and the two hugged and swayed in place. Both looked very content and care-free.

“Bloody hell guys!!” shouted Andrea, finally after the initial shock wore off, “ _What_ just happened?”

“Oh, that?” said Jamie, lazily looking up at Roger, smiling playfully, “We were just messing around! Right?”

“Yeah,” slurred Roger, shaking his head as if Andrea were quite behind in the times. “We’re just friends, Andrea – it’s all in good fun!”

The two went back to their slow swaying dancing, that somehow did indeed look mostly platonic.

Eliza snapped her book shut and stood up, looking utterly scandalized.

“ _Well_ ,” said Eliza, disgust dripping from every word, “I wasn’t aware that people just hauled off and _snogged_ their friends for ‘good fun’! Completely preposterous. Undignified and hedonistic! I’ve had quite enough of you _both_ for the evening.”

Eliza stormed off to the girls’ dormitory without looking back.

While Andrea wasn’t put off as Eliza was, she did feel equally uncomfortable as she felt amused, watching the two of them behaving like a pair of idiots, so Andrea kicked back onto the couch so that she could instead see the stars outside the nearest window.

Andrea closed her eyes and relaxed into the effects of the elvish wine, allowing her mind to soar freely. Laying there, listening to the music and the soft laughter around her, Andrea grew increasingly aware of her body. She could feel a warm buzzing in her upper thighs, her belly, and her breasts. As soon as she noticed these symptoms, she then perceived her heart beat and her breath quickening, and her senses seemed to sharpen deliciously.

Her mind drifted back to George. It had been too long since their encounter on Halloween. She felt her face flush as she began reliving some of those moments in her head. She started to understand why Jamie and Roger had a mini snogging session. The wine definitely increased her desire. Andrea sat up and opened her eyes, unable to bear the sensations that accompanied her train of thought.

Noticing that Andrea was up, Jamie and Roger came over to the couch and sat on either side of her. Jamie immediately wrapped her arms snuggly around Andrea and laid her head on her shoulder, smiling sleepily. Roger, slid his arm over Andrea’s shoulder smiling distantly into the fireplace in front of them. Andrea laced an arm around each of their waists.

“I love you guys,” said Andrea, letting her head rest on top of Jamie’s. “I’m sorry I’m not always as open with you as you would like. It’s nothing personal – I’m just often afraid that if I talk too much about personal things it will come back and bite me somehow. It’s conditioned into me, I guess.”

“It’s alright,” sighed Jamie, contentedly, “We know that, Andrea. And we still love you anyway!”

“ _I_ can see right through you anyway, so it doesn’t matter much if you try and hide things,” said Roger smugly, “ _Ouch_!”

Andrea had pinched Roger in his side for his insolence.

“Don’t push your luck, Roger,” said Andrea, too tipsy to care as much as she normally might have. “I was just thinking about confiding in you guys – don’t make me change my mind.”

“Yeah, _Roger_!” said Jamie, suddenly leaning around Andrea to glower at him before turning to Andrea with wide eyes, “Tell us! I want to know!”

“Well,” said Andrea quietly, grinning mischievously, “I _might_ have stolen George’s innocence on Halloween in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory.”

Jamie covered her open mouth with both hands, looking positively enthralled at this juicy confession.

“Wow, Andrea,” said Roger, raising his eyebrows, looking somewhat impressed, “I suspected something more had occurred, but I must confess that I didn’t expect _that_.”

“I suppose you aren’t as _all-knowing_ as you thought,” said Andrea, giving him a tight squeeze.

“That’s so _hot_ ,” said Jamie, dreamily fanning herself, “I wish Eliza were here – she would love to hear that.”

Andrea looked at Jamie, who had suddenly become very quiet, still leaning on Andrea’s shoulder. Andrea watched as several tears slid silently down Jamie’s cheeks as she gazed distantly into the fire.

“Jamie,” said Andrea, wiping away one of Jamie’s tears with her thumb, “Let’s go get washed up and go to bed? It’s getting late, and if we stay up much longer, we are going to be really tired tomorrow.”

“Yeah, alright then,” sniffed Jamie, sitting up and wiping off her face.

“Thanks for the wine, Roger,” said Andrea, patting his shoulder softly. “It was nice to let loose a bit with you guys, but please, you two, don’t ever snog like that in front of me again.”

Roger and Jamie sniggered together, and Roger gave Jamie a friendly wink and a thumb’s up.

“Alright, Andrea,” said Roger, chuckling, “As you command.”

Andrea’s arm still wrapped around Jamie, she guided her up to the girls’ dormitory for the evening.

The next morning, Andrea went down to breakfast with a still groggy Jamie around nine thirty, and joined Roger and Eliza in the Great Hall in which snow could be seen falling down from the ceiling, but vanished before hitting the tables.

The Great Hall had already been decorated for Christmas with twelve enormous fir trees, mistletoe, and holly. Sometime next week, Flitwick would undoubtedly decorate the trees to make them even more spectacular.

Eliza glanced up from The Daily Prophet at Jamie and Andrea as they sat down, only to hide her critical gaze behind its pages.

“Good morning, ladies,” said Roger glancing up from the Quidditch strategy diagrams he was working on, “Andrea, the post just came. I took the liberty of taking an owl for you – it was your parents’. Here.”

Roger passed Andrea a letter addressed to her in her mother’s hand. Andrea served herself several cranberry scones before opening it up.

_Dear Kuttu,_

_I hope your classes are still going well. We were happy to hear that you are having such success so far. I really wish I didn’t have to worry you, Andrea, especially right before midterms, but I’m afraid I couldn’t wait to write to you to let you know that Pat went missing last weekend – after visiting your father here. We thought he had just gone home as usual because we saw him all the way to the Leaky Cauldron, but Helena wrote us the next day asking if he was still with us. I went to their house to talk with her, and she said he never came home. It’s been six days now, and we are starting to worry… Helena, Frida, and James will be staying with us for a while, just to be sure that there are no Dark wizards after them as well. You know how some people feel about muggles visiting Diagon Alley. Frida has been especially frantic about her dad. She will need you. Once again, I really don’t want to worry you, but at this point, I’m afraid I have no choice. We will keep you updated. Daddy and I love you very much, darling._

_Love,_

_Your Mum_

Andrea let the letter fall from her fingers and her head fell into her hands.

“What happened, Andrea,” said Eliza, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

Andrea pushed the letter to the middle of the table. Jamie picked up the letter and read it quietly aloud for Roger and Eliza. After she had finished, all three looked at each other and at Andrea.

“That’s certainly concerning news,” said Roger seriously, making a face as he took a sip of his black coffee.

“He’s probably fine, Andrea,” said Jamie kindly, “Maybe well… I don’t know… Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake?”

“Maybe your godfather got into an accident and couldn’t let anyone know that he went to a hospital,” said Eliza, helpfully adding to Jamie’s theory.

“I don’t think so…” said Andrea quietly, keeping her hands pressed to her throbbing head.

“She’s right,” said Roger grimly, “And The Daily Prophet has been reporting more and more cases of muggles and muggleborns going missing over the past few months. I fear that he might have been attacked by a wizard, considering he just came out of the Leaky Cauldron. If someone discovered he was a Muggle, well, there’s a lot of opportunity for misdeeds. Have your parents reported it to the Ministry yet?”

“She didn’t say, but I imagine they did already,” said Andrea, taking a sip of pumpkin juice to wash down the tears that were threatening to pour out. “Mum’s not telling me everything, I expect. She says she doesn’t want to worry me.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say it, but it’s too late for _that_!” said Jamie, looking disgruntled.

“I’m really sorry, Andrea,” said Eliza, her eyes rather moist, “I hope they find him soon.”

Andrea would write to Frida this afternoon. She couldn’t bear the thought of what may have happened to her godfather and even less knowing how much Frida would be suffering right now. Frida’s little brother, James, was likely even worse off.

Finding out bad news on the weekend had its benefits – she could spend the day in Ravenclaw Tower in peace to process this. However, the lack of the distractions of classes would likely end up driving her mad. She had midterms to study for as well.

“I know you’re really upset Andrea,” said Jamie, rubbing her arm, “But I think the best thing we can do for now is get your mind off of this. Don’t you think? Let’s go outside and enjoy the snow for a bit!”

Reluctantly, Andrea agreed to this proposition, so after eating the four of them headed outside, bundled up in their thick winter cloaks, scarves, and gloves, to walk the snowy grounds.

Jamie and Roger pushed open the heavy oak front doors, and they all were greeted by an icy, crisp gust of wind, sending flurries into the entrance hall.

Once outside, Andrea looked over the vast, white grounds. The Black Lake had frozen solid, and there were several small groups ice skating on its smooth, dusty surface. Hagrid’s hut looked like an enormous iced gingerbread house with smoke billowing from its chimney and a warm, orange glow emanating from its windows. In front of Hagrid’s hut, a group of Gryffindors, including the twins, were having a snowball fight.

Andrea heard a croak, and looked up to spy Hugin, who was flying down from atop a stony gargoyle. He landed lightly on Andrea’s shoulder and cozied himself into her hair. The friends made their way to walk along the white-topped evergreens at the edge of the Dark Forest, soaking the scent of pine and snow.

Eliza and Roger decided to make a snowman by the edge of the Black Lake, so Andrea and Jamie continued their stroll behind Hagrid’s hut in silence, Jamie’s arm looped through hers. Being out in the chilly air certainly helped Andrea to distance herself from the reality of her family’s situation.

The beauty of the snow-carpeted Hogwarts grounds was calming, and after a while, Andrea was finally able to harden her resolve to stay strong until she received whatever news awaited her when they finally found her godfather.

Suddenly, with a thud, Jamie lurched forward with snow caked in her ginger locks.

“ _What_ the – _hey_!!” shouted Jamie, turning back to receive another snowball in the chest by Fred Weasley, who was grinning devilishly, along with George, their heads poking out from the other side of Hagrid’s hut close by.

“Sorry, Miss!” said Fred, preparing a fresh snowball in his gloved hands.

“We were aiming for Ms. Clearwater,” said George impishly, packing together another clump of fluffy snow.

“Why don’t the both of you _get stuffed_!” roared Jamie, trembling with wrath, “ _You_ – Andrea, watch it!”

The twins began pelting Andrea and Jamie relentlessly, freighting Hugin off of her shoulder and into the forest behind them. The girls shielded their faces with their arms, trying their best to blindly edge their way away from the line of fire, but the twins were getting closer.

“What are you waiting for??” shouted Jamie, “Attack them!!”

Jamie gathered a fistful of snow and threw it at the twins in vain. They apparently had a bucket of snowballs in reserve, and were pelting them faster than the girls could keep up with. Andrea hid behind a nearby tree. She knew well enough that her aim was no match for the twins’. She had a better idea.

Andrea pulled out her wand, and focused on casting a non-verbal shielding charm on Jamie, who was in the direct line of fire. The results of her spell were instant. All of the snowballs that the twins pelted at Jamie backfired about six inches from her and rocketed back onto them with twice as much force.

Both twins fell back onto the fluffy snow, rubbing ice out of their eyes. Jamie peeked out from behind her arms and cackled victoriously upon seeing the twins splayed out on the ground.

“ _Ha_! That should teach you! You bothersome _boys_!” said Jamie, walking over to Fred, and spitefully tossing a handful of snow into his face.

“Don’t beat them while they’re down, Jamie,” laughed Andrea, standing over a discombobulated George, “They didn’t realize what they were getting into… or who they were messing with.”

“Wow! Pretty nice move there, Andrea,” said Fred, finally hopping up, looking like he’d gone for a tumble down the roof of the Great Hall.

“She’s full of all kinds of surprises, this one,” said George, accepting Andrea’s hand and pulling himself up.

Jamie stalked over to Andrea, linked arms with her, and glared somewhat sportingly at George and Fred.

“Thanks to _you_ boys,” snarled Jamie, “We are now cold and wet and in desperate need of hot showers. Or at least hot chocolate. You’ve cut our outing short, I’m afraid, so we’ll have to be off.”

Jamie turned on the spot, dragging Andrea alongside her past Hagrid’s hut toward the snowcapped castle.

“Wait up, then,” said George, as the twins jogged to keep up with them, “Thanks to _Andrea,_ here, we are in the same boat as the two of you, so we might as well tag along.”

Andrea, Jamie, and the twins rushed up the stone steps and hurried into the warm entrance hall. Jamie and Andrea waited patiently for the twins to come back from the kitchens with hot cocoa and sat down near a suit of armor that was singing Christmas carols. Before long, George appeared out of the doorway that lead to the kitchens carrying two steaming hot chocolates.

Andrea stood up and handed a mug to Jamie, and took one for herself, before lacing her fingers through George’s briefly and giving him a meaningful glance.

“Oh wow…” said George, chuckling, raising an eyebrow with a very peculiar smirk, and looking down at his empty hand, “That’s _interesting,_ isn’t it… Everyone makes mistakes, Andrea, so don’t be too hard on yourself, now. George will be up here in a sec.”

Andrea stepped back, blushing all the way down to her neck. It hadn’t been George. Andrea stole a glance at Jamie, who was apparently trying not to choke on her hot chocolate. At that moment, the real George emerged from the kitchen stairway and jogged over to Fred, handing him his mug.

“I asked Dobby to sneak us a nip of Irish cream into ours,” said George with a grin.

“Brilliant, Georgie!” said Fred, drinking a large mouthful, “Yeah, that’s the stuff.”

“Hey! Fred, George!” called Lee Jordan, who was walking into the Great Hall from the front doors, “Wanna play a round of wizard’s chess?”

“Yeah! George?” said Fred.

“I want to!” said Jamie, enthusiastically. She had been getting really good lately, and clearly wanted to show off her skills.

“Do _you_ want to?” said George, looking down into Andrea’s still pink face.

“Honestly, not really,” said Andrea, shifting her feet, “I got some bad news from my parents this morning, and I’m not really in the mood to mess around anymore.”

“You go ahead,” said George, looking over at Fred, who gave him a thumbs up before following Lee into the Great Hall.

“I’ll see you soon, Andrea,” said Jamie, jogging to catch up with Fred and Lee.

Her mistake with Fred was bringing back all the miserable feelings from that morning. She hadn’t confused the twins for a long time. She supposed it could be because Fred was being more quiet than usual when he showed up with their cocoa, but even still. Being at Hogwarts while her family was out looking for Pat made her feel so powerless.

“Andrea, what’s wrong?” said George, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking her towards the marble staircase, “You can talk to me, y’know.”

What Andrea really wanted to do was to lie down – preferably on George’s chest, but considering they weren’t really supposed to hang out in each other’s common rooms, that was out of the question.

George walked Andrea over to a bench facing the court yard on the first floor, and sat her down next to him. She felt asmall tear trickle from the corner of her eye as they sat in silence as they watched the snow silently fall onto the naked pear tree in front of them. She rested her head George’s shoulder and held his hand tightly. She didn’t want him to see her cry, that would be too much, so she cleared her throat and sat up straight.

“My godfather went missing after visiting Diagon Alley last week – he’s a Muggle, Dad’s friend,” said Andrea, trying to distance herself from the words that were coming out of her mouth. “He’s been gone for almost a week. We are worried that wizards might have something to do with it…”

“Blimey,” said George after a moment, shaking his head, “That’s rough, Andrea.”

They sat there in silence as Andrea finished her cocoa, which was making her sleepy.

“George,” said Andrea with a sigh, “I think I just want to spend the rest of the day lying down. Everything is just too much right now.”

“Oh! Sure, let’s go,” said George, standing up at once, “I’ll walk you up, then.”

Andrea could tell that George was trying his best to help her feel better, but it wasn’t much use. She squeezed his hand, before joining him in their quiet walk up to Ravenclaw Tower.

“Everything will turn out alright, just you wait,” said George, kindly as they stood in front of the spiral staircase that lead to the common room. George took Andrea’s hand, kissed it softly, smiling at her half-heartedly, and he slowly walked back down the corridor away from her with his hands in his pockets, stopping only to glance back at her once or twice.

After a good cry, Andrea spent the rest of the day going back and forth between the common room and her bed. Isolation was improving her morale slightly, but she still couldn’t make herself finish her Arithmancy homework, even though midterms started on Monday.

Sunday, Andrea followed the same routine, only leaving the tower once to tend to her Felix Felicis potion. Roger, Jamie, and Eliza were all wonderfully supportive, keeping her company without mentioning her godfather and bringing her food from the Great Hall after each meal that she missed.

When Monday morning finally arrived, Andrea felt slightly better and breezed through her potions midterm in only thirty out of the ninety minutes that Professor Snape had allotted, so she decided to go back up to the Great Hall and study a little for her Arithmancy test that she had never gotten around to preparing for.

Andrea started up the dark, winding stairs to the entrance hall when she ran straight into Fred.

“ _Hey_ , there Clearwater,” said Fred with a crooked grin, “Skiving off Potions, are we? I thought you were above all that!”

“ _Hmf_ ,” said Andrea, taking a step back from Fred against one of the narrow walls – he was standing way too close for her liking. “No. I just finished my exam rather quickly. I could ask you what you were doing down in the dungeons, considering you don’t have Potions, but I can guess it probably involves peddling contraband items to Slytherin first years.”

“Hmm, clever one, you are,” said Fred with a smirk and wink, taking a step down onto Andrea’s stair so that he was uncomfortably close once again, her back pressed against the wall, “I bet Snape gets a real kick out of you. I’m pretty sure that even _he_ isn’t immune to your allure, especially in such a studious student such as yourself.”

“Fred, would you mind terribly _getting out of my face_?” said Andrea with mock politeness.

“Oh, not at all!” said Fred throwing his hands up defensively, descending a few more steps towards the dungeons, “Of course not! I was merely trying to give you another opportunity to reconsider my previous proposal – especially considering your little mistake the other day in the entrance hall. I reckoned it might’ve gotten you thinking! No worries though! Cheers, Andrea!”

What a clown! Andrea mumbled curses all the way up to the entrance hall. In the Great Hall, Andrea managed to get a little studying done, although it wasn’t easy, as Peeves had once again taken up one of his favorite holiday activities of hiding in the singing suits of armor and screaming out alternative, vulgar versions of the songs. As distracting as it was, Andrea couldn’t help but feel a little amused by his rendition of “Deck the Halls.”

After Charms class that afternoon, Andrea was fairly sure that she had passed with flying colors, but her confidence took a sharp blow after Professor Vector passed out the Arithmancy mid-terms. Andrea knew how to solve about half of the questions, but Professor Vector had focused the exam on the most recent unit – the one that Andrea had barely studied.

The next day, Andrea’s anxiety heightened after her Transfiguration midterm where she successfully transformed a large, speckled hog into an armchair. Fred had made a habit of imitating George, down to his longing looks, any time she came across the twins, making it impossible to tell them apart until he broke character and laughed it off.

That evening, Andrea felt sure she had made good marks on all of her tests except for Arithmancy, so after dinner, she decided to quickly ask Professor Vector how bad the damage was. To Andrea’s great dismay, Professor Vector had told Andrea that she had not passed her mid-term, but in light of her familial circumstances, she would allow for Andrea to make up some points with a bonus activity next term.

As much as Andrea had appreciated Professor Vector’s compassion, it barely lightened the great weight that had been steadily building on her shoulders over the past week. She had never failed an exam at Hogwarts before.

Fred and George were both irritating her, as the two of them seemed to find Fred’s imitation games quite amusing. George certainly _tried_ to contain his amusement, but she could tell that he secretly _was_ and she was _not_ in the mood for their childish games.

As Andrea glared into the fire in the Ravenclaw common room that evening, the only comfort that she could find was the knowledge that winter break would start in just three days, and she would finally be able to go home and help her family in their search for her godfather.


	10. The Weasleys’ Woe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited : October 11, 2020

Although midterms had ended, Andrea felt no sense of relief. She had not received any more news from her parents about her godfather nor had she recovered from her Arithmancy failure. Not to mention that Roger had started spending a lot of time with the Hufflepuff girl that Andrea had seen trailing behind him the day of Ravenclaw tryouts, meaning that Eliza and Jamie were also spending more time together.

This added significantly to Andrea’s anxiety, as the pair seemed to be constantly at each other’s throats, so she did her best to stay as clear of them as possible until the week was up and they could go home for the holidays. Eliza had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the break after all to spend Christmas with Lexi, and she agreed to stir Andrea’s Felix Felicis potion daily for the three weeks of the break, according to the directions that Andrea had left for her.

Early Wednesday morning, Andrea received a notice from Professor Flitwick calling for a prefects meeting in the staffroom at ten o’clock. Before heading down, Andrea poked her head out of the window near her bed, scanning the snow-covered tree tops for a sign of Hugin. He hadn’t come to bed last night. This occasionally happened, but it was very seldom, and it always weighed on Andrea’s mind until he showed up again.

After a minute, Andrea gave up and shut the window. Holly groaned from across the room. She had better be quick or Andrea would likely wake them all up. She had a rushed breakfast before hurrying off to the staff room with Roger. 

He seemed to pick up on Andrea’s mood quite quickly, and he stood silently beside her, as the fifth and sixth year Ravenclaw prefects joined them to wait outside for Flitwick to arrive.

“What do you suppose is up?” said Roger, finally breaking the silence as all six of their prefects had arrived, chatting quietly. “We’ve only got two more days of term.”

Just then, Professor Flitwick came scurrying around the corner looking slightly flustered.

“Ah! Excellent,” squeaked Flitwick opening the door to the staff room and motioning for the group to enter. “Thank you all for showing up on time; this should only take a few minutes. Take a seat wherever you like.”

The prefects filed into the long room, and Andrea sat herself into one of the wobbly wooden chairs next to Roger while Flitwick waited patiently for everyone to get situated.

“Good morning, prefects,” began Flitwick, smiling around at them all. “I know that term ends in a couple of days, but I needed to call this meeting as a matter of urgency. As you all know, a Ministry agent has been evaluating Hogwarts for the past several months, and from what I know, she has been compiling evidence to present to the Minister of Magic in hopes of implementing additional school policies which would grant her additional authority.”

There was no mistaking Professor Flitwick’s opinion of these policies or of this “ministry agent,” as he stared around meaningfully at each of them, twiddling his wand between his fingers.

“Now, there is very little that can be done to change the past,” said Flitwick, stepping onto a foot stool to increase his height by another foot or so, “I must ask you all to try your very best to keep our house, as well as others, on their very best behavior for the rest of this week and into the holidays – for those of you who will be staying for Christmas. We have reason to believe that Professor Umbridge intends on implementing radical changes here at Hogwarts next term if she gains Ministry approval, so let’s do our very best to not give her any further evidence to add to the case that she has been developing.”

Andrea and the other prefects nodded in understanding as Flitwick looked at them inquiringly, his small hands tucked behind his back, bouncing on the heels of his little feet.

“I am aware that exerting your power upon your peers can be one of the less enjoyable responsibilities of a prefect,” said Flitwick, “But please do whatever you must to keep your peers in line. I suggest that you all spread the word to your friends to encourage others to exercise caution, and so that your interference may be unnecessary. Well, at least within Ravenclaw house! Thank you all for your attention. Off you go, now!”

Andrea got up from her chair and headed out of the staff room with Roger, who was now rattling on about his plans to visit his family’s second home in the country, just north of London. Andrea struggled to pay attention to him, as they glided by the hundreds of portraits that hung in the Grand Staircase on a set of stairs that was headed upwards.

The prefect meeting had substantially increased Andrea’s aggravation at having yet another thing to worry about. She knew, of course, that Flitwick was right about needing to be extra careful about Umbridge, but trying to keep the rest of the students behaving decently the last few days of break was more than Andrea felt like dealing with right now.

“Roger, I’m sorry, but I’m hardly able to handle my own thoughts right now,” said Andrea, cutting Roger off midstream about the pudding his house elves would be making for Christmas. “Can we just skip lunch today and take tea in Ravenclaw tower today? I think it’ll help a bit.”

“Oh, of course,” said Roger, as the pair of them walked up to the eagle door knocker at the top of the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower.

“Feed me and I live, give me a drink and I die. What am I?” said the knocker in a raspy voice.

“Fire,” Roger answered quickly, then pushed open the door to the common room. “I’m going to get us some wine too – for later. Maybe it’ll help calm your nerves. I’m going up to my dormitory for a minute, I’ll be back.”

Andrea huddled up in an armchair near the fire, pulling a velvety blue throw from its back onto her shoulders. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. Being in the dark about Pat made it very hard to be patient. She still hadn’t seen Hugin – she knew he could take care of himself fairly well, but she had always been very wary of Draco Malfoy’s eagle owl. It was huge and it looked like he could easily make a nice meal out of even the largest of ravens.

What’s more, every time Andrea closed her eyes, she remembered Professor Vector’s grim face saying “sixty-two doesn’t pass.” As if she didn’t know that. Bonus points or not, her ego had taken a blow. It didn’t help that all of the professors, especially McGonagall and Flitwick, held an air of the anticipation of impending doom. Everyone seemed to think things would take a turn for the worse their second term.

Part of Andrea regretted getting so irritated at George yesterday. He couldn’t help his silly nature, and Andrea really could use his embrace right now; but she had barked at twins pretty severely yesterday, and she didn’t have the energy to interact with Fred nor to apologize to George. If he even deserved an apology.

Eventually, Roger returned from his dormitory at about three quarters of an hour after the lunch bell rang, freshly showered and carrying a tray of tea and sandwiches. It was times like this that reminded Andrea why she liked Roger so much. They ate and drank, both reading their books together in silence.

Just as Andrea began to lose her worries in one of her new charms books that her parents had gifted her, Jamie appeared in a chair across from them carrying a white pastry box.

“Hey guys!” said Jamie, smiling at them, “Nice set up you’ve got, eh? Andrea, Fred and George were looking for you at lunch. They wanted to give you these.”

Jamie pushed the small box across to Andrea. Inside were seven sugar-frosted biscuits – likely lemon from the look of them.

“ _ Mmm _ ,” said Jamie, rubbing her palms together, “Can I have one? They look delicious.”

“Of course,” said Andrea, pushing the box over to Jamie, “Have as many as you like. I’m pretty full.”

“Yay!  _ Ooo _ they smell great,” said Jamie, happily popping an entire biscuit into her mouth, “ _ Mmm _ , they’re  _ amazing _ ! They taste kinda like –  _ pop _ !”

Andrea stared at the spot where Jamie had been sitting. The stress must really have gotten to her, Andrea thought, rubbing her eyes. Where Jamie had been sitting, sat an enormous yellow songbird that was chirping madly. Andrea looked slowly over at Roger, to confirm that she had indeed gone mad, but Roger was gaping at Jamie as well, his eyes all but popping out of his head.

“What  _ the _ – ” said Roger, jumping up with his hands gripping his head, “Andrea! What do we  _ do _ ??”

As Andrea stood up to get a better look, the bird’s feathers started falling out in alarmingly large clumps all over the floor. Before either of them could decide on what to do, Jamie was sitting there, once more, in a pile of yellow plumage.

“ _ Woah _ ,” said Jamie, eyes wide, “That was  _ bizarre _ ! Don’t worry though, I’m quite alright! I guess we should have known better than to trust anything coming from the Weasley twins, right?”

“You’re  _ absolutely _ right,” said Andrea, through gritted teeth.

Those biscuits had been meant for  _ her _ . Were they  _ so  _ thick as to think she would be amused by turning into a giant bird? With no warning! They thought they were so clever, and they probably had a lot more of those where that box came from. Andrea suddenly thought back to Flitwick’s warning that morning.

The twins were bound to be up to no good, and were certainly unchecked by any Gryffindor prefects either. She absolutely was not about to go running after them, but thinking about all of the trouble they would undoubtedly cause over the next few days sent Andrea another fresh wave of stress.

“You know,” said Roger, turning back into himself after sampling a biscuit, “Your boyfriend is actually kind of a genius, I’ll admit. They may not be the most conventional, but the pair of them are incredibly talented. Managing to incorporate a temporary transfiguration charm into a pastry – that’s very advanced stuff, that is.”

“He’s  _ not _ my boyfriend,” grumbled Andrea, glaring at the box of biscuits. “We haven’t quite put a label on our relationship as of now, but he’d better tread lightly if he doesn’t want to get on my bad side.”

“Come on, Andrea,” said Jamie, pouring herself a cup of tea from their pot, “It’s not a big deal! They probably just were trying to cheer you up! Everyone can see how strained you’ve been lately.”

“Well, they clearly don’t know me well enough,” snapped Andrea, “Otherwise they’d have known that I’m in  _ no _ mood to be experimented on. I’m tired of them showing off. It’s not cute anymore.”

Just as Roger opened his mouth to speak, his eyes widened, and he gestured for Andrea to turn around. Poking his head through the crack of the common room door was none other than Professor Flitwick. Andrea had seldom seen him enter Ravenclaw Tower, and if he did, it usually wasn’t a good sign.

“Oh! There you are!” said Flitwick in a hushed voice, spotting Andrea. “Ms. Clearwater, the headmaster requests your presence. Can you come with me please?”

Dumbledore wanted to see her? The last time she’d been called to visit Dumbledore, her sister had been found petrified by the giant, thousand-year-old basilisk that had been lurking under their feet for who knows how long, in her fourth year.

Andrea exchanged an ominous look with Roger and Jamie, Jamie’s tea cup trembling in her hand as she gaped back at Andrea.

“Hurry now Ms. Clearwater, if you please,” squeaked Flitwick.

Andrea knew what this must be, but she didn’t dare allow herself to think of it. She followed Professor Flitwick all the way to the second floor corridor in silence, when they finally reached the gargoyle that guarded the spiral stairs which lead to the headmaster’s office. A little ahead of her, Flitwick whispered the password to the gargoyle which leapt out of the way, allowing them to pass.

Andrea’s heart pounded in her ears louder and louder as they ascended on the moving spiral staircase to Dumbledore’s office. After a soft knock, Flitwick and Andrea heard a faint “come in” from behind the oak door, and they entered the room to find both of her parents and her sister sitting by Dumbledore, who stood in front of a roaring fire at the other side of the large circular room which was full of a variety of whirring instruments.

“Ah, Ms. Clearwater,” said Dumbledore with a soothing smile, “Come, have a seat.”

He watched her over his half-moon spectacles with his piercing icy, blue eyes as she hurried over to embrace her parents. They each kissed her head, then stood back to take a look at her. Her mother had sharp features and full lips. She was tall and tan with Andrea’s dark wavy hair, but her eyes were black instead of amber like Andrea and Andrea’s grandmother.

Her father was not much taller than her mother, and was as pale as milk with grey-blue eyes and a full head of white-blonde hair. He dressed in dark blue robes, having assimilated completely to wizarding culture, and it was impossible to tell by looking at him now that he was a muggle. Both parents were looking at her with great concern, but they weren’t sobbing as she had expected, so that was a start.

“What happened?” implored Andrea, looking from her mother to her father, “Is he… dead?”

“No,” said her mother, running a hand over Andrea’s arms, “We found him, and he’s not dead.”

“But he’s not well,” said her father, somberly, “Not well at all. He’s been brutally tortured. He’s all beaten up in a bad way… I think you’d rather not know the specifics… Someone from the Ministry found him hanging by his ankle in a nasty corner of Knockturn Alley.”

“He’s at St. Mungo’s now,” said Andrea’s mum, “He hasn’t been well enough to talk, and he’s been in and out of consciousness for a few hours now. Hopefully he can tell us a bit more later, so we can find out who is responsible.”

Andrea sank down into one of Dumbledore’s armchairs, resting her head in her hands. At least he was alive.

“Will he be alright?” asked Andrea, looking up at her parents then the headmaster.

No one said anything for a moment, and Penelope fidgeted in the corner, shifting back and forth, looking around the room.

“I believe, Ms. Clearwater,” said Dumbledore gently, handing Andrea a cup of hot tea, “That your godfather will, indeed, be alright. With a little time. The healers at St. Mungo’s are highly skilled. He is fortunate to be a part of a wizarding family – I am afraid if he were left to Muggle medicine there would be little they could do for him. As it is, with a little time, he will be able to function rather normally,”

“I certainly hope you’re right, Headmaster,” said Andrea’s mum, “We are all quite worried, still.”

“Ah, Mrs. Clearwater,” said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye, “I do not wish to appear boastful, but I have a hunch that he will be well again before long, and I have learned to trust those feelings, as they seldom have proven false.”

Andrea desperately hoped that Dumbledore was right this time, and not just trying to raise their spirits.

“Well, darling,” said Andrea’s dad, putting a strong hand on her shoulder, “Would you like to come home with us now? Or stay until Friday?”

Andrea thought hard. She had wanted to go home earlier today, but now she wasn’t sure. If she went home then she would have to face the reality of the situation being cooped up with her parents, sister, Frida, and James all in their apartment. If she stayed a couple more days, she could at least get some peace and quiet before transitioning back to reality. Plus, Roger and Jamie were probably really worried.

“I… I think I’ll go home on the train,” said Andrea, looking between her parents’ concerned faces, “I have a few things I’d like to sort out here before I go. And I need time to process. Is that alright?”

“Sure,  _ sweetu _ ,” said her mum, “I understand. Frida is staying in your room, so you’ll have company when you get home. I know you’ll want a little space before then.”

“Thanks, Mum,” said Andrea, feeling weary and quite ready to be alone already.

“Would you all care to join us for dinner this evening?” asked Dumbledore, smiling politely.

“No, but thank you” said her mother, “I think not, I’d like to get back to Helena and the kids tonight.”

“I quite understand,” said Dumbledore, bowing his head, “ In that case, I’ll go and retrieve the Floo Powder now.”

“Actually,” said Penelope, finally speaking up, “I’d like to have a private word with Andrea before we go.”

Everyone stared at Penelope curiously. Great. This was sure to be good.

“As you wish,” said Dumbledore, after a moment. “There is an empty classroom that you may use – down the stairs, just outside my office on the right. You know the password when you’re ready to come back up.

“Ms. Andrea,” said Dumbledore, turning towards her, “I can have dinner sent up to you this evening, if you wish.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Andrea quietly, “Thank you. I’d appreciate that very much.”

“See you at home,” said her mum, hugging her and kissing her cheek.

“Bye, love, get some rest,” said her father, with a kiss.

“Follow me then, Andrea,” said Penelope, importantly, heading towards the door.

Andrea shot an exasperated look to her mum, to which her mum raised her eyebrows and shrugged dramatically. Penelope stalked down the steps ahead of her, and led Andrea into the empty classroom not far from the corridor where Dumbledore’s gargoyle was located.

“What could you possibly have to say to me that you couldn’t say in front of our parents and Dumbledore?” said Andrea as soon as she closed the door.

“Andrea, darling, can you at least  _ try  _ to be less irritable sometimes?” said Penelope, crossing her arms across her chest.

Penelope had chopped off most of her hair since Andrea had seen her last, so that it was quite short in the back and slightly longer in the front. She had straightened it too. Andrea thought it made the back of her head look like a chicken’s arse.

Penelope was certainly more “white-passing” than Andrea, something Penelope took great pride in, as she had always wished to emphasize her European-English background over the rest. She had Robert’s blue eyes, thin lips, and pale skin. She always clung to extreme English propriety and traditions, and carried herself with an air of authority. It seemed that her past year at the Ministry had turned her into even more of a prat.

“Go on, will you?” said Andrea impatiently, “Say what you have to say, and let’s be done with it.”

“ _ Ugh _ , so rude,” said Penelope, turning up her nose, “I’m merely trying to give my little sister some sage advice. Are you aware that Percy is no longer associating with the rest of the Weasley family?”

“No,” said Andrea, a little taken aback, “Why? And what’s that got to do with your  _ advice? _ ”

“Everything,” said Penelope, raising an eyebrow, “Don’t you know what they’ve been  _ saying _ lately? They’ve been perpetuating that ludicrous rumor that the Potter boy started about You-Know-Who being back from the dead. The Ministry supports no such claim. I’m telling you, Andrea, you should follow Percy’s and my example and make sure you have no affiliation with any of that lot. We’ve both been so busy lately that we hardly see each other anymore. We’ve got  _ much _ more important things to worry about than tabloids.”

“Well, you know what, Penelope,” said Andrea venomously, “I believe that  _ rumor _ as you put it, because Dumbledore himself told us all last year that it is  _ fact _ . You’re just kissing the Ministry’s ass, as usual. It’s not my problem that you can’t think for yourself.”

“You’re  _ so _ contrary, Andrea,” sneered Penelope, “You just like to hang out with the twins because you’re secretly just as reckless, troublesome, and  _ irresponsible  _ as they are deep down.  _ How  _ you were chosen as a prefect, I’ll  _ never _ understand.”

“Can you not be a bitch for a single interaction?” groaned Andrea, “I’ve had such a stressful week, with not knowing what happened to Pat and with other stuff I’ve got going on here. Please don’t add to my stress load.  _ Please. _ ”

“Wow, Andrea,” said Penelope smoothly, taking a seat behind the instructor’s desk, “You really need to get your temper in check, especially if you plan on working anywhere  _ reputable _ after you finish with school. I do hope you haven’t been drinking. It’s not classy. By the way, did Mum and Dad tell you that I’ve moved out? I’m living closer to the Ministry in a cute little flat overlooking the park.”

“We already lived close to the Ministry,” said Andrea, growing incredibly tired of their pointless conversation, “Plus you can  _ apparate _ ? Have you forgotten?”

“Well, it’s really just an excuse to move out,” said Penelope vaguely examining her nails. “You don’t really expect me to want to continue living above a  _ tea house, _ do you? It’s not like that’s the most prestigious place to work at. I definitely don’t want Mum to get the idea that I’ll be helping her with it at all, much less take it over. Mum and Dad are humble, Andrea. It’s up to us to improve the family name, and from what I can see you are barely pulling your weight.”

“ _ ‘ Improve the family name’  _ ?” repeated Andrea through gritted teeth, “You narcissistic  _ prat _ . So you think you’re better than our parents, do you? You and Percy really are two peas in a pod. Why don’t you just bugger off and disown us too while you’re at it??”

“Oh, Andrea,” said Penelope condescendingly, getting up from the desk and walking over to her. “You don’t mean that. Anyway, you  _ know  _ that would break Mum’s heart. They’re proud of me, Andrea. Why can’t you be? Be a good sister for once.”

Andrea was about to start screaming at Penelope, letting the full weight of the past week’s tension crash down upon her, but Penelope held up a hand not far from her face, silencing her.

“Now  _ Andrea _ ,” said Penelope calmly, staring her in the eye. “That’s  _ quite _ enough. You really don’t want to embarrass yourself by letting the whole school hear you behave like a beast. Pull yourself together. Go up to your room, have some dinner, go to sleep, stay away from all of the Weasleys and anyone else who thinks like them, and finally send in that application for the Ministry that I sent you on your birthday. I know you haven’t done it yet. I put in a good reference for you at the Ministry, so you should have no trouble finding a job. Do this, keep your head down, and stay out of trouble. That’s how we survive what’s coming. Shut. Your.  _ Mouth _ . Unless you  _ want  _ to see Dad end up like Pat – or worse.”

At that, Penelope held her head high, walked out of the classroom, and slammed the door shut in Andrea’s face. Andrea wanted to cry, but she was too angry. She was trembling from head to foot with rage. She turned to leave the room, but stopped to kick a chair over on the way out.

Andrea stormed off towards Ravenclaw Tower, not even bothering to get out of the way of the Fat Friar ghost and walked right through him without apologizing. How could Penelope say that Andrea was irresponsible?  _ Andrea _ helped her parents with their business. Andrea juggled her classes, social life, prefect duties, and trained to become an animagus. Andrea always put her family and her duties first, and she was  _ not  _ about to ‘shut her mouth’ about You-Know-Who.

Did Penelope really have the  _ nerve _ to imply that Andrea was putting her father in danger by being weary of You-Know-Who’s return? Being aware should  _ prevent  _ potential issues. What would pretending like nothing’s happening do to help? All that Penelope wanted was to kiss the asses of everyone at the Ministry to improve her image. No – to improve her  _ family name _ . Andrea had known that Penelope was a stuck up little snob, but she didn’t realize that she actually thought herself superior to her own parents and had the audacity to turn all of the blame back around on Andrea.

Andrea _wished_ that Penelope knew that she had been seeing George. That would show her just how much she cared about distancing herself from the Weasley family. A family that had treated them all so well _._ Mrs. Weasley had treated _Penelope_ so well, and now she was going to turn her back on them? Andrea wouldn’t shut her mouth. She wouldn’t _behave._ She especially would never behave like Penelope. If anyone was a shame to her family, it was Penelope, not Andrea.

Andrea stalked, through the buzzing common room and up to her dormitory, which was luckily empty. Andrea groaned seeing that Hugin still hadn’t come in the window that she had left open for him, but a spinach quiche had been left on her bedside table, still steaming hot. Andrea snatched up the pie and fork and whipped her bed hangings shut.

The food helped settle her temper slightly, as she ate with her legs crisscrossed in the dark on her bed. After eating, Andrea laid back and tried to relax, but the day’s and the week’s unfortunate events kept circulating in her mind.

Abruptly, Andrea heard the dormitory door open with a slam against the wall, and a pair of loud voices assaulted Andrea’s ears.

“It’s  _ none _ of your concern why Lexi and I are arguing,” shouted Eliza, “I only mentioned it because  _ you _ wanted to know why I wanted to spend more time with her over the holidays!”

“I  _ heard _ what you told Roger, Eliza,” snarled Jamie, “So it turns out Lexi isn’t as perfect as you once thought, eh? How are the two of you ever going to resolve a conflict about her prejudice against muggleborns?? She’s not going to change her views! You can’t work something like that out! Not unless you are just going to get over it and continue dating someone so  _ ignorant.” _

“Shut up!” yelled Eliza, “You’ve had it out for her since the moment you found out we were together! It doesn’t matter what I say to you because it’s  _ you _ who won’t change!”

Andrea had heard enough. She flung open her bed hangings and stomped out of the dormitory without so much as glancing at her friends. Andrea hadn’t originally known where she was going, but she decided, halfway down the spiral stairs coming from Ravenclaw Tower, that she would go for a long soak in the prefects’ bathroom. No one would bother her there, and it was her best chance of calming herself without having a complete breakdown.

Andrea made her way down the fifth floor corridor, passed the statue of Boris the Bewildered, stopped at the fourth door to the left, and mumbled the password, “bubbles.”

Once inside the quiet bathroom, Andrea immediately felt a little calmer. She strode across the white marble room and looked up at the candle-filled chandelier flickering warmly above. She walked passed the hundreds of jewel-set taps on the edge of the pool-sized bath and passed the long white linen drapes that lined the windows over to the main water tap and turned it on.

The gushing faucet quickly filled the bath with hot water, sending clouds of hot vapor into the air. Andrea opened another tap, which spilled thick white foam across the surface of the water, and another that sent out sweet-scented purple clouds over the surface. The mermaid in a large painting on the wall flicked her tail enthusiastically as the enormous bath filled up. It only took about a minute for the water to lap up on the pearly edges of the pool, and the tap turned itself off on its own.

Andrea took a deep breath of the sweet, jasmine scent of the purple mist, and slid off her robes and boots, placing them upon a wooden bench near the door. Andrea had just dipped a toe in the balmy water when she heard a massive bang from the corridor outside.

Then the smell hit her. The smell of an overflowing privy. It was a Dungbomb. She was sure of it, and she had an itching feeling that she knew who set it off. They were going to send Umbridge down on their school like a sledgehammer if no one put a stop to their foolish stunts.

With a fresh wave of fury, Andrea snatched up a thick cotton towel, hastily wrapped it around herself, and stomped out into the putrid corridor. There they were, hiding and sniggering gleefully behind old Boris the Bewildered.

“You  _ idiots _ !” hissed Andrea, feet slapping against the stone floors as she stormed over to the twins. “Are you  _ trying _ to ruin everything?! We are supposed to be flying  _ under the radar _ with Umbridge! She could shut down our school! Is that what you  _ want _ ? Oh I forgot – you don’t  _ care _ about school! Now  _ where  _ are they?”

“Uh…where are  _ what _ ?” said George, who, along with Fred, was staring at her like she had three heads.

“The sack of Dungbombs that I know you’ve got! Hand them over!” snapped Andrea, thrusting out a hand, “Now!”

Andrea’s tone was so resolute that Fred reluctantly handed Andrea a large tweed sack.

“ _ Thank  _ you,” said Andrea, “Now get out of here before Filch shows up and finds you here.  _ Go _ !”

The twins didn’t move. They were still staring at her, from head to toes. Andrea, only then, remembered that she was standing in the middle of the corridor, practically naked – just wrapped in a towel that barely covered her bum in the back. Andrea felt a small wave of embarrassment, but was still too angry to seriously care.

“Er, Andrea,  _ you  _ might want to consider what Filch will think if he finds you like  _ this _ ,” said George, gesturing to her towel.

“Geez, Andrea,” said Fred, rustling his hair with his hand, “I’ve never seen you this worked up before. Ha! Maybe you need me and Georgie here to help you  _ relax  _ a bit.”

Andrea glared at the pair of them, something itching in the back of her mind. As the pair of them were chuckling to themselves about the cleverness of Fred’s joke, Andrea couldn’t help but hear Penelope’s voice in her head saying how inferior the twins were and how Andrea should stay away from them and their troubles. Andrea felt something snap deep inside of her.

“You know  _ what _ ?” said Andrea so dangerously that both twins stopped smiling, “Have it your way then.”

She turned on the spot and walked back towards the prefects’ bathroom. At the door she whirled back around to look at the twins, who were both gaping at her where she had left them.

“You’d better hurry up before I change my mind,” said Andrea, before stalking into the bathroom without shutting the door, dropping her towel, and wading into the hot water up to her neck. Andrea kept her back to the door, breathing the sweet steam in deeply. She’d been feeling so much rage for hours now, maybe even days. She felt like her head might explode.

Andrea closed her eyes and tilted her head back to wet her hair up to the roots, and was scarcely aware of the quiet footsteps, whispers, and the door thudding shut behind her. The heavy fumes from the violet clouds that floated on the surface of the thick bed of snow white bubbles made Andrea’s head swim.

She straightened up, pushing her hair back from her face. Slowly, Andrea turned around to find George and Fred both in the bath, looking very uneasy, sitting silently beside each other on the underwater bench at the far side of the pool. They glanced at each other, but quickly looked back anxiously at Andrea, each fidgeting with the bubbles.

The sight of the twins squirming and staring nervously at her in utter silence gave Andrea a delicious rush. She felt powerful. She felt in control. She felt _invincible_.

The thick blanket of bubbles concealed much of Andrea’s body as she slowly approached the twins. She stopped walking just as the bubbles revealed the tops of her breasts, keeping her upper half just hidden by the foam. Still in the drunken buzz of her adrenaline rush, Andrea dropped her feet from the floor and swam closer.

As Andrea approached George, his eyes alight, he reached out for her hand and pulled her to sit on the bench between him and Fred. When Andrea sat down onto the smooth marble, the bubbles only reached her navel, leaving her exposed from the waist up. She gave George a challenging side glance – he and Fred were both as tense as bowstrings, staring silently. The tension electrified Andrea’s senses, burning away the pain that had been devouring her. She soaked it in, feeling it build, and closed her eyes with a deep breath, waiting for it to break.

After a little, George stood up, sinking into the water a couple inches, and stood himself in front of Andrea. Her eyes were still closed, but feeling his firm thighs touching her knees, she slowly opened them.

George met her eyes and leaned in closely, cupping her face in his hands and gently kissing her lips. His hands slowly moved from her jaw to roam freely across her skin. As his left hand tenderly felt her breast, she placed her hand on top of his, forcing him to squeeze harder. Andrea sighed deeply, barely noticing that she was bumping back against Fred who sat stiffly on her left, and she gave in to George’s touch. He didn’t seem to need any more guidance, and was experimenting with her upper half without reservation.

Andrea felt Fred rest a hand tentatively on the marble seat between them so that it pressed slightly against Andrea’s knee while George began kissing Andrea’s neck so fervently that his teeth gently raked her skin. Without thinking, Andrea pulled Fred’s hand to her hip, pressing his fingers firmly making him squeeze tightly.

Andrea closed her eyes, feeling George’s lips as they moved up and down from ear to her breasts while Fred’s hands moved more confidently along her hips, back, and belly.

Suddenly, causing water to surge around her, George grabbed Andrea by her thighs, and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling her into slightly deeper water. Fred close behind, kissing her neck, moved so that her back rested against his strong chest, carrying her weight. George nibbled on her nipples, his strong hands gripping her backside.

Andrea’s blood boiled as his hardened body shifted side to side between her legs. She wanted more. Andrea’s let out a low moan, her senses completely saturated from all sides.

Andrea reached out, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss her. A new surge of desire seized her as she tasted him, his tongue moving deeply into her kiss.

The intensity was such that Andrea felt hardly conscious of anything other than the multitude of pleasurable sensations that surrounded her. As the pool around her surged and rippled, her rage, her frustration, and her pain seemed to dissipate.

With a swift move, Fred flipped her around, took her face in his free hand, and pulled her into a strong kiss. Almost as soon as her lips had met his, Andrea’s ecstasy dissolved.

She suddenly did not want to be touched – by anyone. Reality suddenly crashed down upon her, as if she hadn’t before truly believed that Fred was there with George and her. She shoved herself off of a dumbstruck Fred and pulled away from George, turning her back to them.

Andrea’s mind flooded with panic. Panic and heavy, heavy shame. She thought she might scream.

“Get out…” she whispered onto what was left of the bubbles.

“Andrea… wait, it’s okay, I – ” started George.

“ _ Get out! NOW!  _ Both of you! LEAVE!” bellowed Andrea, trembling with her back still to the twins, tears streaming down her face.

Andrea heard the echo of their wet feet patting against the marble. She plugged her ears. She waited for what felt like a long time, before glancing behind her. They were gone. Andrea climbed heavily, out of the pool and wrapped herself in her towel. She couldn’t even bring herself to think complete thoughts.

She dried herself off with a towel, and put her robes back on. She sat down on the wooden bench to put on her boots. They felt as heavy as lead. She let them drop to the floor, and she curled her knees up to her chest. Before she could bring herself to get up, Andrea was crying harder than she had in years, sobbing loudly with ropes of snot hanging from her nose.

She had betrayed George. No, she had betrayed  _ herself _ . She had never thought herself capable of such an act. There was no one to blame but herself. She was the one who made Fred’s jokes a reality. Not that anything had  _ technically  _ happened, but he shouldn’t have been there. Maybe she really was a sexual deviant. One thing was for sure; George would never see her the same way again. Could she see herself the same way again? She’d never even  _ heard _ of anyone doing such a profane act as what she did.

Maybe Penelope was right. She was too hot headed. Too out of control. She didn’t deserve George now. She didn’t deserve anyone. Her godfather was in shambles at St. Mungo’s, while Andrea stayed at Hogwarts to snog in the nude with twin brothers. How could anyone ever want her now if they knew what she was capable of? What disgusted her most of all was just  _ how  _ much she had enjoyed it. Andrea had never hated herself so much.

When she had finally pulled herself together, after an hour or more, it was very late. She finished getting dressed, drained the bath that she supposed she would never enter again, and headed back to Ravenclaw Tower. She had resolved that the best course of action was to apologize to George for her behavior and leave him. They hadn’t ever really made their relationship official anyway. There was no way he could respect her now, but at least that way he could see that she had enough self-awareness to recognize her errors.

When Andrea entered the common room, she was surprised to find several prefects still awake, huddled together talking very seriously. Roger was among them, and it didn’t take long for him to spot her.

“Andrea,” called Roger seriously, beckoning her to come over. “Andrea, something’s happened. Flitwick wanted us all to be aware. But first – are you alright?”

“Erm…” said Andrea, feeling very self-conscious, “Yeah, I guess. What happened?”

“Flitwick came up about five minutes ago. He said that the Weasleys’ father, Arthur Weasley, was seriously injured tonight at a job,” said Roger gravely.

“What…?” said Andrea swaying slightly where she stood, hardly believing the day she was hearing.

“Yeah. He’s been taken to St. Mungo’s, he’s lost a lot of blood and has got venom in his system still,” said Roger, shaking his head, “He was attacked by a giant snake. Dumbledore had all the Weasleys sent home about fifteen minutes ago. We are to help this stay hushed up. If anyone asks, it was just an accident. Don’t mention the snake. There’s enough hysteria going around here as it is.”

“Oh my…” said Andrea, feeling woozy.

“Are you  _ sure _ you’re alright?” said Roger, holding Andrea by her elbow, “You look faint.”

“No,” said Andrea, feeling nauseated, “I’m not at all sure.”

The prefects helped Andrea up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory and into her bed. Hugin sat on his perch, hopping and squawking at the intruders. At least one thing was alright. They pulled the blankets over Andrea, handed her the sleeping draught she asked for, and shut the bed hangings. Andrea took a large gulp of the potion, sinking quickly into a deep sleep. She faintly hoped that when she woke again it would have all been a nightmare.


	11. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 10/28/2020

Andrea was grateful when the Hogwarts Express pulled into King’s Cross station late on Friday afternoon. After putting on some muggle clothes (black pants and a green fluffy sweater) and saying goodbye to Jamie and Roger, Andrea wasted no time in grabbing her bag and Hugin’s cage, crossing through the magical barrier from platform 9 ¾, and rushing out of the train station onto the bustling London street. The fumes from the many cars that drove down the busy road prickled her nose in the cold – it had been a while since she had to breathe such smoggy air.

As per usual, Andrea made her way down the sidewalk to a deserted side alley where, once alone, she turned on her heel and apparated into an alley behind a dumpster a block away from the Leaky Cauldron. The heels of Andrea’s boots clacked loudly against the concrete as she made her way from the dingy narrow passage, around the corner, past a bookshop, and pushed her way through the front door of the Leaky Cauldron.

She waved at Tom, the landlord, briefly as she strode across the creaky oak floor, past the old bar through the main room which smelled strongly of old beer and firewood smoke, and out a door on the other side of the bar which led to an empty courtyard. She prodded a brick on the far wall with her wand, and the wall slowly dissolved away, exposing the familiar cobblestone street that Andrea called home: Diagon Alley.

The street was bustling with witches and wizards gathering for Friday night outings and holiday shopping. It was only about five in the afternoon, but people were usually quite eager to start weekend festivities early on Friday nights, especially at that time of year. The streets were lined with all the shops’ latest merchandise. A couple of wizards were busily stacking baskets of quills and ink of various colors into the display window in a nearby shop. Andrea passed a cauldron store where an advertisement for self-stirring cauldrons hung.

A little further down the way, Andrea noticed that Flourish and Blotts was closing down for the evening, as she strode down the street towards Gringotts Wizarding Bank and passed the apothecary with its telltale reek of bad eggs and rotten cabbages. She stopped for a minute in the Magical Menagerie for some raven treats for Hugin, who was quite furious at being hauled around in a cage for the past few hours. She finally slowed down her pace just as she passed Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour which stood next to Timeless Teas, her home.

Before entering, Andrea took a deep breath of crisp winter air and gazed over the square, glass-paneled windows, then up at many balconies that jutted out over the street below. She was ready to be home. She opened the door, and entered the familiar, warm wooden room. It had many circular wooden tables evenly dispersed throughout the space, and the smell of freshly baked pastries and rosemary filled the air.

The tea house was once a pub many years ago and had a number of wooden drinking booths which her mother had decorated with intricately adorned mandala pillows. Many Indian-style gold and glass lamps dangled from chains on the ceiling. Each table was laden with clusters of thick white candles that melted freely onto the scrubbed wooden surfaces.

Many loyal patrons often remarked that the dining area was cozy yet open, rustic yet elegant, and inviting yet private, all at once. Behind the wooden bar across the room hung shelves upon shelves of corked glass jars of hundreds of varieties of teas. As Andrea walked towards the bar, a porcelain teapot drifted around her over to a nearby booth, where a group of chatty older witches sat, and began serving them all.

When Andrea set her bag atop the polished wooden countertop, her mother suddenly appeared in the doorway behind the bar which lead to the stairwell to the rest of their apartment. She was wearing robes of a deep crimson, that exactly matched the hue of her bhindi and lipstick, and an intricate golden belt.

“ _ Kuttu _ ! You’re home!” said her mother, Radhika, running through the swinging bar door, kissing Andrea’s cheeks, and pulling her into a tight hug, “How are you? Come, let’s get you to your room. Daddy will be making dinner soon, so you can let him know you’re home and then go rest until we eat.”

Her mother took her by the hand and led Andrea through the door to a lamplit stairwell that was not accessible to the public. It wound around and around each of the six landings above. The tea shop was located on the ground floor of their seven floor apartment.

One would never have known that there were so many floors from the outside, but her mum was particularly skilled at undetectable extension charms; so Andrea, Penelope, and her parents each had their own flat each on their own floor. The kitchen and dining area could be found on the first floor, the living room on the second, and Andrea’s room was on the fifth landing after her parents’ and Penelope’s quarters.

The stairs lead all the way up past her parents’ study to the roof which served as a greenhouse and an outdoor living area. Her mother guided Andrea around the winding stairs, up to the first landing, and into the first floor flat where her father was peeling some potatoes over the kitchen sink.

“Robert, darling,” said her mother, bustling into the large, open room towards Andrea’s father, who stood at the kitchen table leaning over his work to read a very old cook book under the light of an oil lamp, “Look who’s here?”

Her father, wearing his usual set of black robes, put down the knife and walked around the table, smiling warmly, to pull Andrea into a snug embrace. Over his shoulder, Andrea spotted her mom flicking her wand at the potatoes that her dad had started, which jumped up and peeled themselves almost instantly. Andrea could see that her mother had already animated half of the kitchen to busily prepare ingredients, with jars of spices whizzing around the air and steam puffing out from pots behind her.

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” said her father, glancing back, seeming to realize that his wife had taken over dinner, “Will you have some tea? Or did you plan to go and see Frida now?”

“I’m  _ very _ ready to settle in, Dad – and so is Hugin,” said Andrea, looking down at Hugin who was frantically trying to cram himself out through tiny bars of his cage. “I’m going to head up. Looks like dinner will be done before long anyway.”

“Well,  _ now _ it certainly will,” said her father, glancing ironically at his wife who appeared to be standing in the middle of a small whirlwind; spoons, garlic, knives, pans, and spices all zooming around her in a blur, “Why don’t you let Hugin out in here. He probably wants to go out and fly for a bit.”

No sooner did her dad unlatch and open his cage, did Hugin rocket out and soar out the nearest window like a phantom.

“I really hate to ask this, Dad,” said Andrea, adjusting her bag which was growing heavy on her shoulder, “But I was wondering if you would mind if I ate in my room tonight with Frida. I expect she has a lot that she wants to talk about, and I’m sure she’ll want to do in private.”

“I don’t mind,” said her dad, taking Hugin’s empty cage and setting it by the door. “But I would really like it if you joined us for some dessert later on. We  _ do _ miss you quite a lot when you’re off at school, and we’d like to spend some proper time with you before you rush off again.”

“Of course, Dad,” said Andrea, squeezing his hand, looking up into his blue, saddened eyes. It killed her to see him like this. She could tell that he wasn’t himself in spite of his attempts at being cheerful. He was surely still thinking of Pat. Her father and Pat had been best friends since they were only five years old.

Andrea headed out onto the first landing in the stairwell and started the hike up to her flat on the fifth floor, stopping only to give her fluffy calico cat, Millie, a pat. Saber, their black cat, was probably up in Andrea’s room at that very moment. As she finally reached the landing to her flat, Andrea heard faint music coming out from under her door.

Andrea opened the door, slipped quietly out of the stairwell into her flat, and shut the door behind her. Each floor, aside from the tea house below, had the same floor plan: the stairwell stood in the middle of each floor like an enormous square beam that each flat encircled. Sort of like a doughnut where the hole in the middle was the stairwell. Every floor had a fireplace and at least one balcony that overlooked Diagon Alley’s usually crowded streets.

Andrea’s flat was set up exactly to her liking. By the windows adjacent to the balcony was Andrea’s queen sized bed piled with mounds of her mother’s gold on red embroidered pillows. Next to her bed was her wardrobe and a thick shag rug that she liked to lie out on and to read. Clockwise to her rug, was a large fireplace with two antique armchairs and a coffee table. She even had an old kettle that she could hang off the hook in the fireplace to make tea.

In the middle of the mantle, above her fireplace, sat a moving statue of Vishnu and Lakshmi with a wooden box of incense on one side and a candle on the other. On the other side of her fireplace, Andrea kept several bookshelves which were surrounded by magical and non-magical plants. Her trunk of potion making materials stood nearby, and clockwise to that was her desk and workstation where she kept her quills, parchment, knives, and her mortar and pestle – among many other tools.

The south side of her flat had many semi-sheer burgundy drapes, that hung from hooks on the ceiling’s open beams, which surrounded her deep, claw-footed, porcelain bathtub and her toilet.

She kept a series of wooden stands around one side of the tub, covered with lamps, candles, and flowering plants for her enjoyment. She loved to read in the tub when she was home, so she always left a free stand for a book and a mug of tea.

The final wall, on the East side, was primarily made up of glass sliding doors which lead out to her balcony. She had a hammock chair hung next to the glass doors on the far end opposite her bed and a little metal café table with several chairs sat between.

Her balcony was even more laden with plants and thick, white candles than the inside, as her mother put a bubble charm around the whole area to keep the warmth in during the winter months.The balcony had another café table, many little floor-sitting pillows, and many small circular, overlapping rugs. 

The long white drapes which hung along the balcony glass doors were still open, and Andrea suddenly realized that Frida was curled up, mostly hidden, in one of her armchairs by the fire flipping through a book.

Andrea watched Frida sitting there for a moment, completely engrossed in one of Andrea’s wizarding history books, her golden hair tied up into a messy bun on the top of her head.

“Boo,” said Andrea, ironically, but still managing to make Frida jump about six inches into the air, the heavy book tumbling to the floor.

“Andrea!” said Frida, leaping up, dumping a miffed Saber, their black cat, onto the floor, “I wondered when you’d get here!”

Andrea clomped across the wide wood planked floor, and stood in front of Frida by the fire. She silently stared into Frida’s thoughtful, green eyes for a long moment.

There was just so much –  _ so _ much that she wanted to say, but nothing would come out. Andrea drew in a shuddering breath and grasped her brow to steady herself, but ultimately broke down into shaking sobs.

“Oh…Andrea, love, what’s going on?” said Frida, rushing over to hug Andrea. Her hug was warm and wholesome. She smelled like cinnamon and beeswax.

“Oh, Frida,” said Andrea, letting her head lie heavily on Frida’s shoulder, “I’m sorry to cry like this. I should be asking you how  _ you _ are. How are you?”

“I’m okay, Andrea,” said Frida, holding Andrea at arm’s length to get a better look at her face. “I saw dad this morning. He’s talking, and he’s feeling much better than yesterday. The healer says he should have a little scarring on his face and belly, but otherwise he’s going to be alright. I’m feeling  _ so  _ much better now. To be honest, it  _ was  _ truly awful at first.”

Frida told her all about the week that Pat was missing: the family’s panicked state, her mother’s irrational fears about him having abandoned them, and fearing that he was dead. Pat had apparently been found by a an auror.Their family had already searched Knockturn Alley, but Pat had been taken somewhere inside by some death eaters and tortured for sport for a few days before they were done with him.

He had been sliced open with magic and had many magical substances and jinxes set upon him. It was only after they were through with him that they hung him out on the street like a slaughtered pig.

“He was unconscious when they found him, but the healers really did a number on him,” said Frida, sounding impressed. “He has been back to his old self, more or less, for the last couple days. We were all so relieved, and he’s not nearly as traumatized as I thought he would be… Part of that might be the potions that they’re giving him. All we can do for now is wait! I’m just grateful that he’s in one piece.”

“ _ Now _ , what I  _ really  _ want to know,” said Frida, leading Andrea to an armchair, putting the kettle on the fire, and placing Saber on Andrea’s lap before sitting back down, “Is what’s happened with  _ you _ . In the last letter I got from you, you seemed like you were doing so well. Tell me why you’re so upset.”

“Are you sure Frida?” said Andrea, stroking a purring Saber’s shiny, black coat, “Don’t you want to talk more about what happened with Pat?”

“No, I really don’t, Andrea,” said Frida, matter-of-factly, pulling her socked feet up onto her chair. “That’s all I’ve talked about for the past week and a half now. I really could use a distraction with your non-Dad-related problems. Please. Tell me.”

“Well…” said Andrea, hesitantly, not knowing quite where to begin, “Everything  _ was _ going fairly well…but I got distracted with what happened with Pat, and everything turned out wrong. I guess it started after mom’s letter when – ”

“Hello, girls?” said Andrea’s mum, poking her head in through the door to the stairwell behind them. “Ladies, Daddy said you two were going to catch up alone for dinner? I brought the trays, just send them back down when you’re done.”

Her mother flicked her wand and two wooden trays floated into the room and over to the little café table in front of the sliding balcony doors.

“Thanks Mum. That’s really too sweet,” said Andrea, peeking around the arm of her chair.

“I  _ do _ hope you ladies will join us in the living room later,” said Radhika, placing a hand on her shapely hip, “Daddy was disappointed that I took over his dinner, so he is making chocolate bread pudding for desert.  _ I _ think he’s showing off.”

“We will Mrs. Clearwater,” said Frida, smiling, as she lit several candles on the table.

As the door shut behind her mother, Andrea placed Saber on the rug in front of the fire, and sat down at the metal table in front of her tray. Andrea’s stomach growled loudly when she looked down at the five little silver serving bowls that her mother had arranged. Rice, naan, dal with potatoes, and saag paneer. She couldn’t help but dig in like voraciously.

After dinner, Andrea and Frida collected several silky blankets and settled down together in Andrea’s bed. Andrea told her everything. She told her about Fred’s jokes, about mistaking Fred for George, about feeling in the dark about Pat, failing her midterm, missing Hugin, her self-doubt, the canary creams, Eliza and Jamie, and then Penelope.

Finally, after commiserating at length about how terrible Penelope was (not just that night, but  _ all _ of the time), Andrea told Frida about the dungbombs. And the twins.

“I don’t know what came over me,  _ honestly _ ,” said Andrea, her voice catching in her throat, “It’s not like I even would have  _ secretly _ wanted that! I just… I don’t know. It was like I was drunk or something! I wasn’t thinking, I was just acting! Now I have to end things with George. There’s no way we could get past that. A naked snogging session in the presence of his brother… I mean, we were covered mostly by water, but  _ still _ . Then Fred kissed me…What George must think of me now…”

Frida chewed the end of one of Andrea’s black, raven quills and watched Andrea thoughtfully in silence for a moment. Andrea was curled up around a particularly large pillow, her head throbbing as she relived the past few days.

“And now you feel ashamed? Angry at George?” asked Frida, “I’m not quite sure that I understand why you want to leave George if you keep saying this is all your fault… which it’s  _ not _ , actually.”

“Wait… you  _ don’t _ think it’s my fault?” said Andrea, looking up at her from Frida’s lap. “I feel like this whole  _ thing _ was my fault. I have to leave George because I’ve kind of showed him I’m a terrible person, haven’t I?”

“Andrea, you’re  _ not _ a terrible person,” said Frida, lying flat down on the bed and repositioning herself to look into Andrea’s bloodshot eyes. “Your mistake was incredibly  _ human _ . Can I tell you how I see it? You’d been under immense pressure and stress from all sides that  _ whole _ week, hell, that whole month. You were frustrated with nearly everyone in your life – yourself, your friends, George, Fred, your teachers… your  _ bird! _ Then you have this horrible fight with Penelope when you’re already feeling at your lowest. You were feeling lost – needing some control when everything around you seemed like it was beyond your reach. Then, when you were feeling your  _ most _ worn down and volatile, an opportunity threw itself upon you. I honestly would have probably have done the same thing if I was in your shoes.”

Andrea laughed, relieved at hearing some reassurance, but also rather doubtful that Frida would have landed herself in that position.

“Have you considered,” said Frida slowly, winding one of Andrea’s curls around her finger, “That those boys are just as much to blame? Or  _ more _ ? I’m  _ sure _ they have. I’ve met them – they’re smart blokes. They could have walked away, but they didn’t. They were thinking with their pricks and walked right into that situation –  _ and _ they hadn’t even had a terrible week like you had! Maybe you led them, but they followed when they should have recognized the state you were in. Or even  _ used _ their brains at all! They’ve known you long enough to know what kind of person you are, and that you weren’t feeling at all like yourself.”

“But… I  _ liked _ it, Frida,” said Andrea, covering her face with her hands, horrified at herself just listening to her own confession out loud. “I liked the attention… but then when Fred kissed me, I suddenly  _ didn’t _ like it anymore, and I told them to leave.”

“Yeah, well,” said Frida matter-of-factly as she used the tip of her quill to clean something out from under her nails, “I don’t think there aren’t many people who  _ wouldn’t  _ have liked a sexual experience like that. If you think about it, unrealistically of course, it’s actually quite an appealing notion. But you already  _ told _ me – you barely looked at Fred the whole time! You were focused on George! It’s not like you actually  _ touched  _ Fred or anything… Sure, it’s not an ideal situation and it’s pretty awkward considering how long you’ve known them, but Andrea are you  _ sure  _ you really want to leave George?” 

Andrea thought of George and felt a stabbing in her chest.  _ No _ . If none of this had happened, Andrea would have really wanted to have continued seeing George. She had fancied him for so long in silence without really even acknowledging it to herself. Now that she had him, she really couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go, in spite of her anger. They had each played a part in this huge mistake of theirs. If she did leave him, she knew that she would not be able to stop thinking about it for years to come.

“No. I don’t really  _ want _ to leave him,” said Andrea softly, looking back into Frida’s moss green eyes, “But I don’t want to face him either. I really don’t want to be responsible for fixing this.”

“And you shouldn’t  _ have _ to!” said Frida, squeezing her shoulder, “It’s time for George to step up. He needs to be the one to talk to  _ you  _ about this. To me, what happened was more his responsibility to have stopped than anyone else’s. You’ve been making all the moves up until now. The time has come for him to  _ earn _ back your affection!”

“What if he doesn’t say anything?” said Andrea, thinking of all the times that the twins had made light of serious matters.

“He will,” said Frida, firmly, “Trust me on this. You’ll be hearing from him really soon. Call it intuition, I guess. Especially with everything that’s happened with his dad lately… he’s going to be in a more serious mindset, for sure. Now he  _ knows _ firsthand part of what you were feeling that week – with my dad. You’re not just a fling for him Andrea – you were and  _ are  _ his friend!”

“Frida?” said Andrea, after a few moments lying there in silence.

“What?” said Frida.

“Do you think differently of me now? Knowing what I’ve done?” said Andrea, staring up at the ceiling, secretly clinging onto any thread of reassurance that she could get.

“Of course not,” said Frida, cuddling up to Andrea, “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal actually. I mean, yes, in one way it is…but these things  _ do _ happen. People just don’t talk about them because they’re taboo. In fact, if I had an opportunity like that with a couple of sexy men, then I might be down for it. Especially if I never had to see them again…”

Andrea turned her head slowly to face Frida, who was smiling devilishly. She looked into Frida’s little gremlin face and couldn’t help but smile back. Soon they both were giggling, then laughing hysterically, flicking and kicking each other like a pair of rowdy children.

Having Frida’s approval meant the world to Andrea. For the first time in what felt like forever, Andrea finally felt like everything could be alright. More than alright. Andrea let go of her anger as she played with Frida – like old times. She didn’t have to hate herself. Frida loved her, and that was enough for Andrea.

“Can we  _ please _ get tipsy?” said Frida, after they finally settled down on the rug on the floor between Andrea’s bed and the fireplace, “We’ve both suffered a  _ lot _ this week, I’m ready to let it all go! It’s Friday night after all! We haven’t had a proper weekend in  _ forever _ !”

“You know where the wine is,” said Andrea, lazily pointing over to the south wall of her flat near her hammock chair where a bookshelf-sized wine rack stood, “Pick something! We can have a glass, then bring the rest down to the living room to have with Dad’s bread pudding. They’ll be put off if we don’t spend time with them tonight.”

Frida picked a rich red to go with the chocolate, and the pair were giggling and in high spirits by the time that they tromped down the stairs to the second landing. The spacious living room flat had four sitting areas, one to a corner – a table with chairs for games, a fire sitting area, a long scrubbed wood table for parties, and a bar in the far corner.

Helena and James (Frida’s mom and Frida’s ten year old brother) were seated at the long table with Andrea’s parents, all drinking hot chocolate and sitting around a large dish of chocolate bread pudding.

Andrea hugged Helena (a tall slender woman in her late forties) and James, who was extremely pale and a little ferrety (he seemed to perpetually look like he was up to something), and then sat down with Frida to finish their bottle of wine over her dad’s hot bread pudding.

They spent the remainder of the evening chatting about Frida’s new job at a hair salon not far away – Frida was a year ahead of Andrea and had already started working. When the conversation sloped back to the dynamics at St. Mungo’s versus muggle hospitals, Frida and Andrea decided to go up to bed.

After opening the balcony doors for Hugin to fly inside and up onto his little obstacle course made of perches, hanging bones, and hoops which hung on the beams of the ceiling, the girls shut the drapes and cuddled into Andrea’s bed. It felt so good to be held. The only light in the room was from the coals in Andrea’s fire. She was so happy to be home in her safe place with her best friend.

Andrea heard the sound of soft purring as Saber curled up between her legs. Despite the discomfort of having a cat impair her movement, Andrea took a deep breath of the fresh, familiar scent of her room and felt completely at peace. Well, almost – but she let her worries about George slide away as she slipped into an intensely deep sleep.

* * *

Early the next morning, Andrea woke up next to Frida, who was sleeping soundly on her face with her limbs splayed out every which way. Andrea smiled to herself, got up, lit some incense, and made a pot of tea. She looked at her clock and discovered that it was only seven thirty. Her parents were likely already up, preparing the shop for Saturday brunch – the doors opened at eleven, so Andrea crept down to the empty kitchen and made herself some eggs and toast, bringing extra for Frida.

Millie and Saber trailed after Andrea, mewing incessantly, back up to her flat, hoping for some scraps and almost tripping her as she turned to close her door behind her while she balanced several plates in her arms. Andrea cursed as quietly as possible, but woke Frida up anyway.

“Mmm… what time is it?” groaned Frida from across the room.

“Not yet eight,” said Andrea, opening the balcony door, slipping out, and setting the outdoor café table with a large pile of toast, several fried eggs, and some orange slices. A few moments later, Frida appeared with the tea tray, set it down on the table, and peered over the balcony onto the street below. Frida yawned loudly before taking a seat across from Andrea and pouring herself some tea.

Something that Andrea loved about Frida was that they could sit in comfortable silence for extended periods of time without any sense of awkwardness. That was just the way Andrea preferred to start her day. In silence.

By the time they had finished their breakfast, the street below already was humming with the sounds of people milling about, squawking owls coming in from hunting, and the tinkling of shop door bells below, jingling merrily as their owners prepared for the day.

Andrea got up, stretched, and went inside and over to her bath area where she drew her curtains and took a refreshing half hour soak. The fragrant herbal oils in her soaps prickled her senses, and by the time she trotted across the room to her wardrobe in her towel, she was feeling quite renewed.

Andrea opened up her wardrobe and pulled out her favorite purple robes. They only came down to just below the knees in the front but almost touched the floor in the back, and they had fine gold embroidery around the edges.

She slipped on Jamie’s boots and George’s bangles, pressed a gold ornamental bhindi onto her forehead, and clipped the top half of her hair back to expose her dangling gold earrings. She inserted her lip piercing into a center hole through her bottom lip – she wasn’t allowed to keep it in during school.

After completing her look with a wide black belt, Andrea looked at herself in the mirror, feeling significantly more confident now that she was dressed in something other than the black potato sack robes they had to use at school. To be honest, the school robes weren’t  _ that _ bad and could certainly be dressed up, but there was nothing like her own robes to make her feel like herself.

“Hey Frida,” called Andrea over her shoulder, “Come in here and pick out some robes to wear. You ought to dress the part if you want to find yourself a wizard husband while you’re here!”

“Ha!” said Frida, laughing as she skipped over to the wardrobe and rifled through its contents, yanking out a set of velvet, forest-green robes. “You know perfectly well I don’t need to do all of that to find one. Don’t you remember that boy from the leaky cauldron last summer? I know why you  _ really _ want me to look like a witch, but it’s fine. I’ll play your game.”

Andrea, indeed, had ulterior motives for wanting Frida to wear robes; Andrea was still a little paranoid about unfriendly wizards taking notice that Frida was a muggle. One couldn’t be too careful, especially now.

“Mum and James are enjoying Penelope’s old flat,” said Frida, helping herself to Andrea’s makeup and perfume, “Even more so because she’s not  _ in _ it!”

“I’m not going to deny it,” said Andrea, watching Frida brush out her tangles, “I’m  _ more _ than happy to have her out of here. Maybe our relationship will improve slightly with some distance.”

There was a rap on the stairwell door, and Radhika poked her head in the room, looking slightly stressed.

“Good morning, girls,” said her mum, “Andrea, if you can, please help down in the shop this morning by playing hostess for a little while. The weekends during the holidays tend to get pretty busy, especially at brunch.”

Andrea agreed, glad to start working again, and hurried down to the ground floor several minutes after her mother had gone back down. Frida had decided to stay on the balcony with her tawny owl Siggi, Petal Andrea’s parents’ barn owl, and Bohumil, their great grey, who had all shown up on Andrea’s balcony after a long night of hunting.

Andrea bustled into the tea shop and opened a glass cabinet behind the bar, releasing about fifty enchanted, antique-porcelain flower fairies which fluttered through the room to sit, two to a table, on the little sugar pots and cream pitchers, swinging their little legs and waiting to add sugar cubes and cream to patrons’ tea.

By the time that Andrea had pre-made several pots of each of their most popular blends, it was time to draw the curtains and unlock the front door.

It was a bright Winters’ day outside with light snow flurries falling gently onto the cobblestones and window sills outside. Yes, today would certainly be busy. People particularly loved to come in for tea when it snowed, and Christmas was only days away.

Andrea unlocked the front door, and flipped the sign on the door from “CLOSED” to “OPEN,” just as her mother carried out the last few trays of pumpkin pasties from the ground floor kitchen to the glass display area near the cashier’s box.

When Andrea sent the blinds whizzing up with a tap of her wand, the magical vine plants, which climbed up the wooden beams on the walls and ceilings of the shop, shifted appreciatively in the sunshine, unfurling their leaves and instantly sprouting tiny red flowers.

Only two minutes after opening the teahouse, customers began to steadily fill in, carrying bags upon bags of holiday shopping along with them. Andrea spent the next several hours on her feet, gliding around the shop minding customers while her mother busily prepared teas and pastries and sent them soaring, with a flick of her wand, across the room to their respective tables.

Her father managed the cash register – people generally responded very well to his charming manners, and often held up the payment process by having longer-than-necessary conversations with him.

Around two thirty, the main rush was over, but there the tea house was still rather busy. Andrea was starved, and decided to retire for the day – she was on holiday after all.

“Hey, Mum!” called Andrea, as her mother refilled a glass jar with their specialty house blend which left the drinker feeling slightly bubbly, “I’m going to head up now. Can you manage?”

“That’s fine,” said Radhika, scooping the wormwood-infused tea from the bulk tub to the display jar. “We can manage fairly easily after that holiday-brunch crowd. Just put this tub back for me in the storage room before you go up, please.”

Obeying, Andrea hurried off to the storage room which contained all of their custom teas. Her dad was a skilled horticulturist and grew a variety of teas, both traditional and herbal, on their greenhouse rooftop. He even had learned to tend to a variety of magical plants which he and mum experimented with. That was one of the  _ many _ reasons that Andrea resented it when people tried to compare her family’s tea house to that of Madam Puddifoot.

Once back in her flat, Andrea found Frida reading a book in the bathtub behind the drawn curtains with all of the candles lit.

“Hey! I’m back,” called Andrea, “I see  _ you’re _ having a relaxing day. I bring food! Fancy a sandwich?”

“Oh yes!” said Frida, Andrea heard her sloshing as she stepped out of the tub, “I lost track of time reading  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _ . I could read your books all day…”

Andrea set the table on the balcony, summoned a jug of pumpkin juice, and watched the snow drifting down to about ten feet above her head where it then slid down the bubble charm onto the street below.

Andrea leaned over the brass railing and poked her head through the bubble, breathing in the icy air for a moment, before settling back down in her warm little oasis for a late lunch with Frida.

“Do you think your parents would mind if I tried growing some passion fruit on your roof?” said Frida, after finishing her sandwich and leaning back to watch the snow. “I’ve never had the real fruit before, and I love the flavor when I have it in things, but I heard it kind of takes over the garden.”

“They’d probably be fine with it,” said Andrea, who was now sitting down on one of her little round mandala rugs on the balcony floor and stretching her feet. “Mum always manages to find a way to stop our vines from strangling the other plants.”

“Of course, I  _ could _ try and see if they’d grow on these railings here,” said Frida, leaning out over the rails to take a better look at them, “I think it’d be pretty nice if… Andrea…They’re  _ here _ .”

“Hm?” said Andrea, confused, “What are here?”

“ _ Them, _ Andrea,  _ them! _ ” said Frida frantically in an excited whisper, pointing at the street below, “Fred and  _ George _ !”

Andrea gulped hard, as bile rose in her throat, and suddenly felt rather chilled.

“Andrea, they went in the shop!” said Frida, turning to her with eyes wide with a mix of horror and excitement, “What did I  _ tell _ you! They’ll be here to talk to you, I expect.”

“I’d guess that too…” said Andrea, stomach churning. She doubted that the twins had come to take tea… She knew that a conversation had to happen at some point, she just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Frida, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Do you want me to stay with you? Or should I go upstairs to the study and wait?”

Andrea thought for a moment. As much as she found Frida’s presence comforting, she needed to do this alone. She also felt sort of embarrassed still, and she felt almost equally as embarrassed that they had showed up at her house. Coming there was probably not a bad idea on the twins’ part, but it still made Andrea feel odd to have them in her space.

“You probably should go. Thanks for offering to stay though,” said Andrea, rushing to fix her bed sheets. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” said Frida, striding over to the stairwell, “I should be off quickly, I expect your mum will bring them up any minute now.”

“Alright,” said Andrea, as Frida held the door open a crack, “I’ll let you know what happens.”

After Frida left, Andrea sat in one of her armchairs by her fire for what felt like a solid hour, even though it was probably only more like five minutes, before she heard a tapping on her door.

“Babyyy, you’ll never guess  _ who _ dropped by to say ‘hi’!” said Andrea’s mum, from behind her, “ _ Look _ !”

Andrea  _ could _ guess, in fact. Her face burned and she fought back the urge to puke, but slowly turned around in her armchair to see Fred and George Weasley smiling sheepishly and shifting around nervously from behind Andrea’s mum, who was positively beaming with enthusiasm.

“It’s Fred and George,  _ Sweetu _ ,” said Radhika, gesturing dramatically. “They said their daddy is feeling much better, and they wanted to check on us because of Patrick. Isn’t that  _ sweet _ !”

Her mom put an arm around each of the twins, who towered over her by comparison. They hesitated awkwardly, but her mother nudged them urgingly into the room.

“Okay, well, you lot have fun catching up,” said Andrea’s mum, already starting to shut the door behind the twins, “We’ve still got a pretty big crowd down there.”

After her mother had shut the door, Andrea stood up and faced the young men. There was a long moment of icy silence, where no one met the others’ eye. Andrea vaguely contemplated whether she had ever felt so uncomfortable in her entire life, when finally, George broke the silence.

“Er, hey, Andrea… Nice place you’ve got here,” said George, looking around her flat, swaying slightly on the spot with his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks. Why don’t you both sit down?” said Andrea, gesturing to her two armchairs in front of the fire.

“Thanks,” said the twins together, quickly taking their seats in front of Andrea.

Andrea was good at hosting; it made her feel more at ease, even in situations like this. She put some water to boil on the fire, and hurried over to grab one of the metal café chairs from the other side of her flat, trying all the while to ignore their eyes on her, and sat the chair opposite the twins.

The tea was ready too soon. She placed the pot on the coffee table between them all, and finally had to sit down and face them.

They were both looking at her, wearing serious expressions. As they met her eye, they turned to each other, exchanged a dark, meaningful look, then nodded at one another.

“Alright, Andrea,” said Fred, clasping his hands together in front of him, “We, George and I – that is, have had a lot of time to think about what we wanted to say to you, and we’re both ready to say it. If you’ll listen?”

“Yes…” said Andrea, after a stunned moment, feeling rather clammy. “I’m ready.”

“Right then,” said Fred, clearing his throat and leaning forward. “I’ll begin. When I made all of those jokes with you Andrea, I only  _ sort of _ meant them – not even, really, but I was wrong to have continued pestering you with them. I never truly understood their weight until after that night. I didn’t know what I was  _ saying _ –not that I ever reckoned something like that would actually happen, but when it sort of  _ did _ I realized just how much more…personal something like that could be. I mean, I know we did only just snog – sort of I guess… but, y’know… I shouldn’t have followed you in there. I shouldn’t have been there… I guess I didn’t really think about what was really going on at first. Maybe it sounds silly, but I see now just now naïve and foolish I behaved. I got in  _ way _ over my head.

“It was even more of a mistake for me to kid around with you like that when you were plainly feeling so distressed and explosive. I should have known better. And, er, you should know – I actually never  _ did _ ask George to swap places with me… I shouldn’t have said it, but you should know that I was just kidding around. I guess you were right about me not knowing when to stop, weren’t you?”

Andrea, stunned, stared at the pair of them. Fred bowed his head slightly and gestured to George, who leaned forward as Fred sank back into his chair.

“Andrea,” said George, clearing his throat as his voice gave out slightly, “I realize now that I’ve not really been there for you like you’ve needed me to be. It took me a second, but after what happened with you and then with Dad, I finally pieced together how distraught you’ve been feeling those past few days. I should have  _ known _ you weren’t in your right mind, but I wasn’t thinking properly either. I know that’s no excuse. Just know that I hold myself entirely responsible for how things went down. I regret all the pain that this has undoubtedly caused you on top of everything else you’ve been dealing with.”

George slowly lifted his eyes to Andrea’s, then looked quickly away into the fire.

“I’ve also realized a few other things,” said George, rubbing his palms together slowly. “I know that I had said that I would have been fine with it if you wanted to do what we nearly did, but I realized later just how wrong I was. After the incident with Dad… After I finally got a chance to  _ think _ about what happened, I was pretty mad at Fred – remembering what it looked like to see him with his hands on you… Fred and I are  _ twins, _ so I didn’t think that… well, I supposed I just didn’t think at all. I didn’t even think much of Fred’s joking either. But then… Well now… I was disgusted. Disgusted at myself and angry at Fred. We had a bit of a row, but we worked it out. We messed up pretty badly this time… Fred plans on asking out Angelina when we get back to school…”

George suddenly looked earnestly into Andrea’s eyes, reached out across the coffee table and took her by the hand.   
“Listen, Andrea,” said George, staring desperately into her eyes, “I know – I _know_ that maybe this changes your feelings about me, and I can only _imagine_ what you must be feeling, but I _really_ don’t want to lose you. If you can find it in yourself to forgive me for being _such_ a fool, I would make sure that you _never_ regretted it. Fred and I have put it behind us – we are fine now, but Andrea, is it too much to ask for you to put it behind yourself as well?”

Andrea stared back into George’s eyes, the fire flickering across their glossy surfaces. Honestly, if they really  _ could _ just forget it like that, Andrea would love nothing more than to put it behind her. To forget it and move on like nothing had ever happened. She scanned the twins’ faces. George seemed to be completely concentrated on reading Andrea’s face while Fred twiddled his thumbs with a somber expression. They meant it. They were ready to move past it. Andrea suddenly felt a great weight lift off of her.

“If…” said Andrea, looking over at Fred, who looked up at her from his lap, “You both promise to  _ never _ mention it again – even jokingly, I  _ could _ be able to move past it. I think we were  _ all _ at fault in different ways. In fact, I was the one who initiated it… so I would disagree with you George. In my eyes,  _ I  _ am the one who is mainly responsible, but hashing out who should take the blame won’t change the past or make anything better now. Let’s let it go. I really don’t want to throw away my friendship with either of you if we can avoid it.”

George let go of her hand, and leaned back in his armchair, frowning slightly. 

  
“I’m glad you feel that way,” said George, slowly looking her over, “But I am not sure I can stand going back to _just_ friendship with you, Andrea. I’m sorry. I’m afraid it would be too much for me.”

Fred abruptly stood up, strolled over to Andrea’s bed to pick up a sleeping Saber, and headed out to the balcony.

“I’ll be out here when you two are sorted,” said Fred, before sliding the glass doors shut behind him and sitting down in a metal chair and setting Saber on his lap.

Andrea looked back at George, who was sitting very quietly, watching her with a troubled look from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry Andrea,” said George, sincerely, “I’m really not trying to make things difficult for you, I just don’t think I could behave myself with you anymore. I can’t imagine spending time around you if I had to pretend that I didn’t have feelings. Maybe it’s selfish of me…”

“No,” said Andrea, finally touching her tea and taking a much needed gulp, “It’s not. I understand that. Actually, I feel the same way.”

“So?” said George, leaning forward to look more directly at Andrea, “What is it that you want to do, then?”

“No, George,” said Andrea, laughing darkly, “I’m  _ tired _ of always being the one to tell you what  _ I  _ want first. What is it that  _ you _ want to happen?”

“Me?” said George, running a hand through his hair and pulling a face, “Well, Andrea, what I  _ really _ want, more than anything right now, is to be with you. Like, officially, publicly – unarguably. You know? I don’t want to act like friends-with-benefits anymore. I know you like to keep your personal life quiet, but since you asked what I want…there it is.”

“You want me to be your  _ girlfriend _ , is what you’re saying?” said Andrea, starting to feel both joyful and amused at George’s poor communication skills when he got nervous.

“Yeah,” said George, throwing back what was left of his tea, “That about sums it up. Now your turn. You tell me where you were wanting to go from here.”

“Hm,” said Andrea getting up and looking into the fire. She was secretly very pleased with the way things were progressing. She had been entirely wrong about her assumptions of his thoughts about her and all that had happened between them.

She wanted nothing more than to forget their mistake. It was a stupid mistake that everyone regretted. She wasn’t one to brood on the past, so she was certain that the unpleasant memory would simply fade away with time.

She knew that, if she wanted to, they could be together, so she thought she would draw out the last few agonizing moments of uncertainty between them before providing them both with the relief desperately needed. She bit back a devious smile, as she stared into the fire, before she put on a serious expression and turned back to George, where he sat apprehensively in her armchair. 

“Well, in that case, I don’t think we  _ can _ be friends…that’s for sure,” said Andrea, slowly walking over to the chair, standing over him to his right.

“Ah,” said George, chuckling humorlessly, not looking at her, “I was afraid you might say that.”

As Andrea watched disappointment oozing from every inch of George, she felt a twinge in her heart – apparently she couldn’t bear to toy with him after all. Perhaps it wasn’t the time for mind games anyway. Oh well. She first put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her with a somewhat pained smile.

“George,” said Andrea, sliding her arm behind his neck and climbing onto his lap, much to George’s surprise. “I can’t  _ just _ be your friend anymore either, I said. I want to be with you. I always did – you just had to ask.”

“But…” said George, looking incredibly confused, “I thought you would have said so if you wanted to. You usually always say when you want something… I thought you didn’t  _ want _ to or something!”

“Yes, that’s true most of the time,” said Andrea, looking up into his cinnamon-brown eyes, “But not  _ always _ . You need to learn to read between the lines.”

She stared meaningfully at him for a moment, then George finally caught on. He ran his fingers up the back of her neck and laced them through the roots of her hair and gripped them firmly. He slowly tilted her head back and stared down at her, eyes flicking across her face thoughtfully.

“You gave me a right scare, Clearwater, you know that?” said George softly, tracing her lips with the fingertips of his other hand.   
“Sorry,” she whispered, dizzy with anticipation.

George tightened his grip on her scalp and kissed Andrea, his lips moving desperately against hers. She wrapped her arms around his strong neck, trembling and pulling herself closer to him, falling into the slow rhythm of their kiss. Part of her wanted to cry with relief.

She had missed him even more than she had originally thought, and being back in his arms took away all of her pain, yet she couldn’t shake the disturbed feeling that she got when she considered that she had nearly thrown this away.

Millie hopped up onto the arm of the chair and climbed onto George and Andrea, breaking them up. Andrea looked at Millie’s disgusted expression, and couldn’t help laughing. Millie, displeased at Andrea’s amusement, jumped down onto the floor and stalked off.

Andrea was soon laughing so hard that tears trickled down her cheeks, which George wiped away, smiling. Feeling incredibly relieved, Andrea let her head fall against George’s chest.

“Hey, hey!” said Fred, cheerfully, as he stepped back into the flat after Saber and slid the door closed behind him, “Looks like all is well with you two then! Excellent. George, it’s getting on, we need to go if we want to sign on the place today.”

“You’re signing your lease on your joke shop today?” said Andrea, sitting up and looking at George.

“That’s the plan,” said George, looking pleased, “If the place checks out on the inside then we’ll sign off on it today.”

Andrea got up, and George got out of the chair, taking her hand in his and leading her towards the stairwell.

“I guess I’ll see you soon then, lovely,” said George, leaning down to kiss Andrea softly. “I’ll be back in London tomorrow to see Dad. Maybe we can meet up.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” said Andrea, squeezing George’s hand.

With a wink, George led the way out and both the twins had left as quickly as they arrived. Suddenly, the door opened again, and Fred poked his head through the door

“Hey Andrea, don’t be  _ too _ hard on him alright?” said Fred in a whisper, with a little wink, “Don’t tell him I said so, but I reckon he’s in love with you.”

Without waiting for a response, Fred disappeared and shut the door behind him, leaving Andrea speechless and beyond delighted with the sudden turn of events. Somehow they had cleaned the slate. She didn’t think it was possible, but she could already feel her troubles slipping away into the past along with this week’s other unfortunate memories.

When Frida finally came back, she and Andrea spent the rest of the day and well into the night chatting non-stop about all that had happened and all that might happen. Andrea would go and see Pat tomorrow, clear her head with a fresh outlook, and finally be able to fully enjoy her winter holiday as best as she could with Frida and her parents.


	12. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: November 2, 2020

The next morning, Andrea awoke in high spirits. She received an owl from Professor Vector with instructions for an extra credit project that could earn her back up to twenty points on her midterm. She was sure that she could finish it in an evening and felt a renewed sense of confidence. Snow was coming down heavily, as Andrea and Frida dressed themselves for their trip over to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies to visit Pat.

“Dad will be so happy to see you,” said Frida, pinning her hair up into two small buns that made her look like she had mouse ears. “I think he’s getting pretty tired of being there… I’m hoping we can have him back here for Christmas.”

They hurried down to the kitchen for a quick breakfast of porridge, that Andrea’s mother had left out for them, then they slipped on their thick cloaks, headed through the still-empty tea shop, and out into Diagon Alley.

Andrea was especially thankful for her warm, leather witch’s boots that Jamie had given her as they crunched through the fresh, ankle-deep snow all the way to the Leaky Cauldron. Once they were out on the sidewalk on the muggle side of the pub, Andrea and Frida made their way over to the nearby alley that Andrea frequented for stealthy apparation.

“Are you  _ sure _ you don’t mind apparating?” asked Andrea. She knew that it made Frida nauseated, but she certainly did not fancy taking the Underground to St. Mungo’s in witch’s robes.

“It’s fine!” said Frida, smiling rather self-consciously. “I  _ did _ feel really sick afterwards last time, but it’s loads faster. Let’s go.”

Frida laced her arm through Andrea’s, closed her eyes, and squeezed her arm tightly against Andrea’s. Andrea concentrated hard on picturing the street outside of the abandoned department store (which was a front for the hospital) turned on her heel, and with a blur of color, Andrea and Frida appeared outside of the red-bricked building which read “ _ Purge and Dowse, Ltd”. _ Although this run-down store did not look like much from the outside, Andrea and Frida walked up to a mannequin behind the glass display window and waited.

“How can I help you?” said a female voice from the mannequin.

“We are here to see Patrick Addams,” said Andrea, glancing at Frida who was still looking a little cross-eyed from apparating.

“Very well,” said the mannequin, gesturing with a stiff arm for them to pass.

Andrea and Frida walked up to the glass window and passed straight through it into an entirely different space: the lobby of St. Mungo’s Hospital. It was very crowded. A shabby little waiting area was filled with healers who were dressed in lime green and bustled around, attending to many witches and wizards displaying a wide variety of bizarre ailments.

“This way,” said Frida, taking Andrea’s hand and pulling her around a man, who had ferns sprouting out of the back of his trousers, to a stairwell near the receptionists’ desk. “He’s on the fourth floor in the Magical Lacerations section.”

On the way up the stairs to the fourth floor, Andrea noticed Mrs. Weasley just passing through the door on the first floor landing ahead of them.

“I suppose this is where Mr. Weasley is staying, then,” said Andrea as she and Frida climbed the second set of stairs.

“You can go visit him after, maybe?” said Frida, moving aside for a large hairy wizard, that looked curiously like a large boar, to pass them. “Don’t you know him pretty well through Penelope?”

“Not very well actually,” said Andrea, feeling slightly annoyed at the thought of her sister still. “I am  _ just _ the little sister, remember? I’ve been to their house a couple of times, but Penelope and Percy got most of the attention. Well – aside from my dad. When Mr. Weasley found out he was a muggle he barely gave him space to breathe, asking him about all kinds of mundane things. I don’t think anyone noticed me too much back then. Apparently, Penelope and Percy don’t get on with his family these days anyway.”

“I wish I could say I was  _ surprised _ ,” said Frida, rolling her eyes and holding the fourth-floor door open for Andrea. “They’re quite a pair, Percy and Penelope. Aren’t they engaged or something? Why haven’t I heard more about  _ that _ ? It’s kinda a big deal isn’t it?”

“Well, they’ve been engaged for a  _ while _ ,” said Andrea as they walked by the long-term unit toward the magical injuries division. “I hardly believe it’s going to happen, actually. Penelope moved out into a new flat, but not with Percy. They’re going to continue living separately… Isn’t that  _ odd _ ? If you ask me, it won’t be long until they aren’t even together at all anymore.”

“ _ Right _ , that’s what I thought too…” said Frida, as they slowed down in front of Pat’s ward. “So you  _ won’t _ be going to see Mr. Weasley after?”

“No, I suppose I will… It doesn’t feel right not to visit since I know him and we’re here already. You should come! He loves muggles,” said Andrea, preferring not to leave Frida behind.

“Hmf,” said Frida, pulling a face, “You make it sound like  _ I’m _ the abnormal one or something! You all are the  _ minority _ in this world! Remember? Anyway, I prefer not to come, I’d rather stay here with Dad for a while longer. I promised I’d meet Eileen for an outing and dinner afterwards. I haven’t seen her since we finished school last Spring. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” said Andrea in a hushed voice as she peeked in the room at the beds, surrounded by privacy curtains. “I’ll find something to keep myself entertained.”

“Well, considering who you’re visiting, I’m sure you’re  _ bound  _ to, won’t you?” said Frida grinning slyly, before entering the room ahead of Andrea and leading her to the third bed on the left.

Andrea approached the hospital bed where Pat lay reading a book. The left side of his face and both of his arms bandaged with gauze, but he was otherwise looking relatively normal; his dirty-blonde hair was a bit messy from laying down for so long, but his green eyes widened in enthusiasm as he took notice of his visitors.

“Pumpkin! Andrea! I’m so glad to see you both,” said Pat hoarsely, looking between them and letting his green eyes fall to rest on Andrea. He reached out a heavily bandaged hand and said, “It’s been too long hasn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Pat,” said Andrea, taking his hand and feeling a pang of sympathy for him. “How are you feeling? What have the healers said?”

“I’m not too bad anymore, under all this stuff,” said Pat, indicating the thickly applied gauze, “They put a lot of some rank ooze on me and said that I’ve got to keep it covered so that there’s less scarring. They said I might be able to leave the day after tomorrow, but it’s still bed rest another ten days and after that I may need a bit of help getting around for a while.”

“That’s excellent!” said Frida, her eyes lighting up and squeezing her father’s hand. “I’m so pleased, Dad! You’ll be home for Christmas!”

“They want me to talk to someone from the Ministry the week after Christmas, actually,” said Pat, looking quite unenthused at the prospect. “They’re hoping that I can identify who was responsible for my attack by looking through some photos of known criminals. My memory is a little blurry, but I might be able to remember if I saw them again.”

“Well, you don’t worry about that for now,” said Andrea, hoping to put his mind at ease, “You just focus on relaxing and getting better for now.”

Andrea, Frida, and Pat chatted for a while, before Andrea decided that she was ready for some lunch. When she started feeling hungry, her patience tended to become significantly shorter, and she did not want to wait to get to that point to go looking for some food.

“Hey guys,” said Andrea, as Frida and Pat started gossiping animatedly about some of their extended family that Andrea didn’t know. “I think I should probably be off now. I need to drop in and see Mr. Weasley for a second. It was  _ so _ good to see you Pat – hopefully the next time I see you we’ll be taking you back to our apartment.”

“See you soon!” said Pat, giving Andrea’s hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll be back after dinner, remember?” said Frida, “Tell your mum not to make too much food. I’m taking a cab from here, so don’t worry about me.”

After saying farewell, Andrea strode off to the stairwell and down to the first floor. Andrea followed signs that hung near the ceiling until she reached a doorway labeled “Bites”, and Andrea edged quietly up to the doorway to see if Mr. Weasley was awake.

Andrea peeked in and saw that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were having a heated argument about something. Both looked very worried… and cross; Mrs. Weasley’s hands were clenched into fists on her hips and her curls bobbed wildly as she shook her head in frustration. Fred was leaning up against a nearby wall looking down at his tapping foot. George was sitting in a chair facing Andrea, staring at the floor and rubbing his palms together slowly.

George must have sensed someone watching him, because a moment later he glanced up at Andrea with a start. Not wanting to draw attention to herself in such a tense moment, Andrea dashed back around the doorway out of sight. She heard footsteps coming from the room, and George quickly rounded the corner, knocking right into her.

“Steady on,” said George in a hushed voice, smiling down at Andrea fondly and leaning his shoulder against the wall beside her. “Hey, there Miss, what are you doing  _ sneaking _ around here? Trying to eavesdrop, are we? I’ve got a spare extendable ear here for you if you like!” 

“I’m not  _ sneaking _ ,” hissed Andrea, glaring playfully at George, who was looking quite pleased with himself. “I was only coming to see how your dad was doing… but it doesn’t seem like a good time…”

“Well,” said George, sliding an arm around her waist and leading her down the corridor away from the ward, “to be perfectly honest it’s  _ not _ . But it hasn’t anything to do with his health, so don’t you worry about it. It’s just some political stuff. But let’s not talk about that! Things are really looking up now that  _ you’re _ here.”

Andrea vaguely wondered what political matters the Weasley’s could be fighting about, but she was growing increasingly uneasy being in the hospital. Somehow, being close to George made her feel more vulnerable to the anxious environment of the Hospital; she was more aware of worried-looking people darting around her, speaking in anxious whispers as they hurried by.

“George, I’m feeling the need to get out of this place,” said Andrea, watching a young witch with bloodshot eyes come out of a nearby ward, leaning against the wall, and crumpling to the floor, sobbing.

“Not very cheery in here, is it?” said George, looking down at Andrea and glancing back down the corridor behind them. “You know what? Why don’t you wait for me in the lobby just for a moment, and I’ll be right there! I need to say goodbye to my parents – oh, yeah, I meant to ask… You want to hang with me today?”

“Yeah,” said Andrea, with a feeling faint butterflies dancing in her stomach as George looked down upon her intently, “I would.”

“Brilliant,” said George with a cheeky little wink, and turning back down the hall, “I’ll meet you in half a tick!”

Andrea made her way down the stairwell and had hardly stepped foot in the lobby when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind. She jumped at the sudden touch, but looked up at George who was grinning at her from over her shoulder.

“Pretty fast, huh? Where to now, eh?” said George mischievously. “Shall we grab a bite to eat?”

Andrea heartily agreed, and she and George had soon apparated back to the alley outside of the Leaky Cauldron.

“Sorry to not have said so sooner, but you look particularly stunning today,” said George, smiling appreciatively at Andrea. “Red suits you – plus your jewelry is nice. I never get to see you like  _ this _ most of the time.”

George indicated to her bhindi and lip jewelry approvingly. Andrea suspected he was being a bit of a kiss-ass, but she enjoyed his complement nonetheless.

“Thanks,” said Andrea, as George held the pub door open for Andrea to step inside and slide off her thick cloak, exposing her sleek crimson robes embroidered with tiny black glass beads that shone even in the dim light.

They might have saved some money by eating at Andrea’s place, but she preferred to be out with George – plus she did not really want to tell her parents that she was dating George just yet. Instead, Andrea and George scooted into an old, dimly lit booth that smelled highly of cigarettes and old beer. They both ended up ordering fish and chips and two ciders.

“Remember the last time we were in a pub together?” said George, waggling his eyebrows at Andrea. “You got yourself quite  _ inebriated _ with me.”

“Sure… but as  _ I _ remember it,” said Andrea, employing a flirtatious edge to her voice to be sure that George was picking up on the effect his presence was having on her mood, “ _ You _ , barely touched your firewhiskey. Some drinking game  _ that _ was.”

“Hm,” said George, smiling softly, glancing side-to-side deviously, and leaning in across the table. “Maybe it wasn’t the best game… but I’ve got  _ others _ that don’t have to involve drinking. I think you’ll find them  _ much _ more entertaining.”

At that precise moment Tom, the innkeeper, showed up with their food and slid the steaming plates in front of them, forcing them to lean apart.

“A bit of a  _ cock-blocker _ , isn’t he?” said George, after Tom left, raising his eyebrows in mock disapproval. 

After eating lunch, Andrea and George decided to take a stroll down Diagon Alley together. With Andrea’s fingers laced through George’s, she felt inexplicably warm despite the snowy gusts of wind that penetrated through her thick black cloak. George’s cheerful nature was contagious; he continuously whispered relatively rude, yet undeniably funny, comments about the products, the people, and even the animals that they encountered.

“Did you see  _ that _ ?” said George in a devilish half-whisper, pointing at a squat, balding older wizard whose nose hair was so long that it could have easily been mistaken for a moustache. “I reckon the only thing with more hair sprouting out of it is Filch’s – agh! Alright, alright!”

Andrea had slipped hand over his lips to stop him from saying something horrendous, as the wizard turned curiously around at the mention of “hair sprouting” and surely wouldn’t have appreciated George’s comparison.

She and George first stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies for George to window-shop for brooms. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, pointing out the latest Beater’s bats and describing the advantages of each to Andrea, despite his Quidditch ban back at Hogwarts. He probably hoped to buy a new one so he could compete better with his siblings during their summer backyard matches.

Andrea and George spent the next couple of hours doing some Christmas shopping that he had neglected up until then. George didn’t need to buy much, as he planned on giving his siblings, aside from Fred, some of their Wizard Wheezes products, but shopping for his mom took considerably longer. Andrea helped George pick out some brand-new maroon robes for his mother in Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

“Thanks for that, Andrea,” said George, adjusting a ribbon that the witch at the counter had fastened to his gift bag. “I never know what to get her… Last year we thought she might fancy one of our headless hats, you know – just for laughs, but it didn’t go over well. She sent a pretty nasty letter about how she would’ve been happier if we had given her a box of Doxy dung. She said she could have at least used it for garden fertilizer. We can’t help it if she can’t appreciate the arts. Oh well, these will do. Now on to Dad…”

After some deliberation about what to get for Mr. Weasley, Andrea remembered an old hairdryer that Frida had abandoned in her apartment, so she promised it to George so he could give it to his dad to add to his collection of muggle gadgets. Since the hairdryer would save George some Galleons, he decided to go back and purchase one of the beater bats from the Quidditch shop for Fred.

A little later, Andrea decided that she wanted to go to the Apothecary to restock on more potions supplies. Andrea led the way past a barrel of dragon dung into the cluttered, smelly little shop over to a wall with jars of powders and herbs and pulled out a small list of the ingredients that she was running low on.

In reality, Andrea didn’t  _ really _ need to purchase anything on her outing with George, but somehow she felt particularly impressive walking around the shop looking for uncommon ingredients as George pretended to study some claws hanging from the ceiling while he watched her from behind. She liked showing off for him a little more than she would ever let on.

George tried using his flirtatious charm on a young witch behind the counter to coax her into giving Andrea a discount. It nearly worked until the witch noticed how close Andrea was standing to him. The witch narrowed her eyes, hardened the expression on her pointy face, and thrust a little bag of beetles’ eyes into Andrea’s hand.

“It’s  _ putrid _ in there isn’t it,” said George, gasping, as they stepped back out into the crisp snowy air. “I’m craving something sweet now. How ‘bout some ice cream?”

“ _ Ice cream _ ?” said Andrea, laughing, “It’s rather odd that the smell of rot makes you want sweets. Anyhow, just look around us, George! It’s  _ freezing _ out!”

“ _ So _ ?” said George, throwing an arm around her shoulder, “I can warm you up after, can’t I? Anyway, Fortescue’s place surely has a fireplace inside like everywhere else!”

“Oh, alright then!” said Andrea. She didn’t really mind what they did as long as she got to spend more time fooling around with him. However, she didn’t really feel like eating; her appetite took a toll when she had butterflies – a pretty constant condition when she was around George.

They entered the little shop, which was surprisingly full in spite of the weather, and Andrea hurried over to save them seats that were open by the fireplace while George bought them an ice cream sundae to share. A few minutes later, George sat down across from Andrea at their little coffee table with a heaping dish of chocolate and raspberry ice cream and two tiny copper spoons. It felt oddly romantic. In fact, it still felt  _ very _ odd to be this way with George, but still pleasant.

With a flourish of his spoon and a naughty glance at Andrea, George dipped his spoon into the sundae bowl and took a small scoop of the raspberry cream. With his eyes fixed on hers, George lifted the little spoon to his mouth, slid the tip of his tongue out from his parted lips, and slowly licked the magenta ice cream from the spoon. George smiled crookedly at Andrea as her face flushed violently. He had  _ definitely _ done that on purpose, and she was ashamed to admit that he had achieved his desired effect.

In need of a distraction, Andrea looked around the cozy little shop. Many young witches and wizards were lined up in front of the counter where Mr. Fortescue himself dished out his coveted ice cream. Andrea noticed Fay Dunbar standing in line with several other witches that Andrea didn’t recognize.

“Look, there’s a Gryffindor you know,” said Andrea, looking back at George who had apparently still been watching her. “Fay, see? He dated my friend Roger a few months ago.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen her around the common room,” said George plainly, then scooting forward in his chair and leaning closer. “I am  _ curious, _ though, Roger goes through women more regularly than his shoddy Quidditch schemes. I’d have expected that he’d have gone after  _ you  _ by now.  _ Has _ he?”

Andrea could not help giggling a bit. Was George  _ jealous _ ? It seemed rather silly considering all of the women George constantly flirted with. It had never really bothered Andrea; she knew where his true interest was invested, but it never occurred to her that he could be jealous about  _ her _ .

He was smiling, trying to appear neutrally curious, but Andrea could detect some apprehension behind this façade. If he was the jealous type, it would certainly explain his fixation on making fun of her previous relationship with Oliver.

“ _ No _ ,” said Andrea, raising an eyebrow, “We’re just friends.  _ I’ve _ never been interested in him either –  _ just _ so you know, as you seem to be going down that road. So you don’t have to worry.”

“Worry?” laughed George, scooping up some ice cream on to Andrea’s untouched spoon and handing it to her. “Of course I’m not worried, why would I be worried? No offense, but you’re friend’s a bit of a spoiled brat, y’know? At least that’s the impression he gives on the Quidditch pitch.”

“ _ Careful _ , George,” said Andrea, taking a mouthful of the creamy, chocolate goodness. “I might start to think that you’re the jealous type.”

“Nah,” said George rather unconvincingly, waving a hand dismissively, as he finished up his ball of ice cream. “Not me. Anyway, he’s got  _ nothing _ on me. Speaking of which, you wanna see our new place? We ended up liking the space and signed for it yesterday. There’s nothing in there yet, but it’s  _ perfect _ for what we need.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Andrea, rather impressed at how smoothly George could shift the subject away from Andrea’s accusations. “I’m done eating, I’m not very hungry after our lunch. Thank you for sharing with me.”

“Alright – and my pleasure!” said George, sucking a bit of chocolate off of his thumb before standing up and lifting Andrea’s cloak for her to put on over her satin robes. Her cloak was heavy and tugged annoyingly on her hair as George set it over her shoulders.

Noticing her discomfort, George swept a hand under her hair at the base of her head and gently freed her waves. Andrea couldn’t help but tense slightly at his touch; she loved it and held completely still so she could savor it. Seeming completely unaware of Andrea’s thoughts, George dashed over to the countertop to return their empty sundae dish.

“I don’t know how you don’t come here every day!” said George, taking Andrea’s hand in his and walking to the exit.“ If I lived right next to this place I’d end up spending all of my money here.”

“I like ice cream fine,” said Andrea, glancing up to watch George’s bright eyes scanning the street ahead of them, “But I don’t  _ love _ it so much to spend money on it every day. Plus, when you live close to something, you kind of forget it’s there sometimes.”

“Ha!” said George, disbelievingly as they walked past a group of carolers outside of the second-hand robes shop. “ _ We _ don’t live near much of anything at the Burrow, but I guess that’s about to change rather soon.”

“You’re moving in at your shop?” said Andrea, unable to hide much of her excitement.

“Yeah!” said George, beaming down at her, “We’ll be neighbors. Pretty sweet, am I right?”

“Yeah, that’s nice!” said Andrea, watching as a wizard was decorating a small Christmas tree outside of Eeylops Owl Emporium with tiny bat ornaments as they walked by. Seeing the tree quickly brought her mind to Pat – he had a miniature tree on his bedside table in St. Mungo’s which served more as a depressing reminder that patients were missing Christmas at home than anything else. She was happy that Pat could spend Christmas with her dad. He would like that. Thinking of Pat and his attack, the contagious holiday spirit of Diagon Alley was suddenly tainted by a prickle of anxiety as Andrea and George strode through the crowded street.

Pat was in good spirits, but that didn’t change the fact that he had been recently tortured and mutilated by dark wizards. It made her worry for her own father. Sure, her dad could outwardly pass as a wizard, but people still  _ talked _ and many people knew the truth about him being a muggle. He never had really made it a secret, but he just fit in so well that no one seemed to question it.

It was undeniable that tensions were building as more and more disappearances had been reported, and with the Ministry in denial about You-Know-Who’s return, Andrea did not feel very confident in her father’s safety.

“I’m thinking that I’m going to try and convince my parents to let me run the tea house on my own after I’m done at Hogwarts,” said Andrea, glancing up at George who was slowing down his pace as they approached the empty building at number 93 Diagon Alley. “I’m worried about what might happen with Dad, now that You-Know-Who is back, if he stays here. I want him and Mum to stay with Mum’s parents. Maybe even my grandparents on Dad’s side too… if they would agree to it.”

“Yeah, I  _ definitely _ agree with you,” said George firmly after a short pause, pulling out a bronze key from his pocket and inserting it into the shop keyhole. “I wasn’t going to say anything earlier, ‘cause it’s none of my business, but I was kind of concerned about him myself. Mum and dad are getting worried too… about the way things are headed.”

“This is a nice location,” said Andrea after a moment, while George fought with the lock, looking around at the nearby shops. “You have a lot of visibility.”

“Oh, it’ll be  _ more _ than visible when we’re through with it,” said George with a chuckle, “You won’t be able to  _ miss _ it!”

George opened the door and stood back for Andrea to enter first. The empty wooden shop was surprisingly lofty, winding up several open floors, and with walls lined with empty shelves. Andrea turned to watch George pull out his wand and light a fire in the large stone fireplace at the side of the room.

“Well, what do you think?” asked George, looking positively smug with pride, “Big enough?”

“Oh yes,” said Andrea looking around, her voice bouncing back off the bare walls. “Do you really have enough merchandise already to fill this place up?”

“Oh yeah,” said George, walking up to Andrea to stand beside her and look around at the spacious interior. “We’ll soon move most of what we’ve got stored in Hogsmeade over here, then we’ll send the rest over when we finish at Hogwarts – after we’ve made enough of an impression with the  _ kiddies _ there. That way, we’ll be sure we’ve got customers when we open up here.”

“This is brilliant,” said Andrea, thoroughly impressed by the twins’ ambition and forward-thinking.

“I’m quite pleased you think so,” said George crossing his arms and looking impishly down at Andrea. “Mum and Dad don’t know yet… They’re going to go mad when they find out…”

To Andrea’s moderate surprise, the prospect of his parents being angry with him seemed to excite George rather than concern him.

“We’ve got a decent sized flat upstairs,” said George, leading the way up the open stairs. “There’s a little kitchen… bathroom… bedroom. I’m  _ definitely _ going to miss Mum’s cooking every day though, but it’s better for business this way – living above all our merchandise. We wouldn’t want anyone getting any ideas about breaking in, would we?”

George stopped at a central landing that overlooked the main shop below and he leaned on the railing looking down. Andrea privately wondered where the twins had gotten the money for this place, but she thought it was probably not very kind to ask.

“You’re our first customer,” said George after a moment of silently gazing upon his empty store, suddenly rounding on Andrea with a devilish grin and backing her against the nearest of the wide empty space where shelves were to be hung. “Too bad there’s nothing for sale here yet… I would have let you  _ sample _ some things.”

“Well,” said Andrea, her voice shaking slightly against her will, as she looked up into his sparkling, dark eyes. “I don’t quite fancy having my nose gush blood again, but thanks…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said George, raising an eyebrow, “We’ve got other products that are far more pleasant. But I’d like to accommodate my guest… You sure there aren’t any complimentary services here that would appeal to you?”

George was coming on with an intensity that Andrea had not yet experienced. It excited her as much as it made her nervous. He wasn’t even touching her, but he was leaned down so that his face was a little closer than usual, his hand supporting his weight on the wall as he leaned over her.

“Um…” said Andrea, feeling a little too giddy to be smooth, “Well, I guess that depends on what you’ve got…”

“I’m open to suggestions,” said George in a low voice with a little smirk and raising an eyebrow. She stared back at him, feeling oddly dumbstruck and not quite sure what to say.

“Well… my feet are kind of sore from walking around in these boots all day…” said Andrea. It wasn’t the best thing she could have said, but it was the first thing that came to her mind. She was trying her best not to meet George’s eye, as she was feeling rather pink again.

“I can work with that!” said George, looking down to examine her feet. “I’m not surprised that they’re hurting! I don’t know how you ladies  _ manage _ walking around like that.”

George suddenly stooped down and scooped Andrea up, placing her on the empty shelf-niche behind them and started unlacing her boots. Was he  _ really _ going to give her a foot massage in the middle of his empty shop? It was certainly a first. George pulled off each of Andrea’s boots, letting them fall to the floor with a dull, wooden thud.

“Cute socks…” said George with a gleeful twinkle in his eye as he rolled off each of Andrea’s bright red-and-white striped wool socks and let them fall to the floor as well.

“Thanks…” said Andrea, laughing nervously as George began squeezing and rubbing her feet. Her feet were rather average in size, but they looked strangely small in George’s hands.

“How’s this? Not bad, eh?” said George, squeezing her ankles strongly. It really was quite enjoyable, but the scenario still made Andrea feel fairly awkward; she had a bare foot on one of George’s shoulders while he massaged her other foot with both hands, her robes falling back to the knee because of the incline.

“It’s nice,” said Andrea shakily, “But I imagine I look a little silly like this.”

“Silly?” said George, his eyes flashing with mischief, “No, you look quite the opposite.”

He tilted his head to the side, toward his shoulder where one of her feet rested, and kissed Andrea’s right ankle softly. After a moment of silence and a long pause, George kissed her again, just above her ankle, but this time he let his teeth graze her skin.

“Mmm,” said George with a sigh, then grinned at her naughtily. “You’re a  _ treat _ , you are, Clearwater. You know that?”

Andrea gasped as George bent down to take a gentle bite of her inner mid-thigh, which he had exposed with a sudden movement. She fought a strong urge to moan, as the shop echoed quite a lot and who could tell how much could be heard from the outside.

“May I?” said George in a low voice, leaning in closely and slipped a hand under her robes to loop a finger around the stretchy band of her knickers and tugged ever so slightly.

“Mmhm,” sighed Andrea, nodding quickly, her nerves leaping with anticipation.

George quickly tugged them down and tossed them behind him onto the floor, then gently slid her silky robes up a little further so that he could take another tender bite of the upper portion of her inner thigh. Heart pounding, Andrea watched as George descended to his knees; her legs both hung over her shoulders at the knee and his hands gripped both of her thighs. Only a small corner of her robes covered her between her legs, as George teased her with slow kisses on her right thigh, looking up at her suggestively.

George stared up at Andrea as he gently pushed his aside the last sliver of robes with his nose and slid his warm tongue between her legs without warning. Andrea felt a flicker of insecurity, but George closed his eyes and let out a low moan that entirely dispelled all previous vulnerability. Andrea let her head drop back as she felt George’s tongue slide slowly up and down between her legs.

Andrea gasped, suddenly tensing up, as his tongue passed over her most sensitive point. George was a fast learner – he had detected her reaction and quickly found the point again, gripped her hips tightly, and steadily traced his tongue over and over this spot, causing her whole body to tremble uncontrollably.

George paused for a moment to grin triumphantly up at her, but Andrea was inpatient for more; Oliver had never tried very hard to pleasure her, and this was beyond anything that she had yet experienced.

“Don’t stop,” whispered Andrea, arching her back involuntarily.

George’s tongue was back on her body, flicking rapidly up and down over the point he had discovered. Andrea found it very hard to hold still, her body alight, so George altered his approach. He flattened out his tongue, licking her slowly and deliberately. Andrea couldn’t keep quiet any longer; the intensity of what she was feeling went bone deep, yet she desperately craved more.

She sat up straight and allowed her eyes to roll backwards as her body tensed up. She felt waves of pleasure crash over her, knocking her backwards into the niche. Realizing that his job was finished, George slowly rose to his feet before her.

“Andrea,” said George hoarsely, darkly looking down upon her, “That was amazing… but now I  _ want _ you. Badly.”

Andrea sat up, still dazed from her experience, and pulled George close by his hips.

“Me too…” said Andrea, looking up into his beautiful face, and pulling him down by the neck into a feverish kiss.

George pulled away abruptly and pulled his robes off from over his head. He stood there, clad in only his underwear, his shapely chest steadily rising and falling. Andrea let her eyes wander down the indent that ran between his pecs to the bottom of his well-toned abs. She couldn’t help but stare at where his black boxer-briefs outlined something quite substantial.

George reached down to his hips, and slowly let his underthings fall to the floor, freeing his long, thick shaft. Andrea gaped for a moment then, almost shamefully, stole a glance at George’s face. He stared down at her with a satisfied yet voracious smirk.

He gently took her by the wrist and wrapped her hand snuggly around his smooth, warm, hardened body. It was too much for Andrea to bear. She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly.

“Do it,” she heard herself say, and let go of him. She watched as he took it, angled it downwards, and slowly sank the end into Andrea’s body. Surprisingly, he halted the moment it entered. She looked up at his face to find him gazing at her and biting his bottom lip slightly. He was  _ teasing _ her. She twisted a little, trying to coax him in further. That was all the encouragement he needed.

George pressed inwards – hard, sending a shock wave through Andrea’s entire body. George sighed heavily and froze in place, as deep as her body would allow him to go.

“Now,” George murmured in a husky voice, leaning down to kiss Andrea gently, “Let me know if this hurts you…”

Before Andrea realized what he was talking about, with a strong hand supporting the back of her neck, George pounded into Andrea so hard and fast that she started seeing bursts of light in her vision. It  _ did _ hurt, but in the best way. She could hear the impact of their bodies even over her moans, which were growing in volume in spite of her earlier attempts at discretion.

As Andrea felt more and more out of her mind, she was aware of herself uttering some encouraging words that she was fairly sure she would feel embarrassed about later, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. George unexpectedly picked her up with her legs locked around his hips, pulled off her robes the rest of the way, and sandwiched her between his chest and a nearby wall to counter her weight as he stood holding her. Through lidded eyes, George smiled down at Andrea tenderly and kissed her deeply, rocking his hips in long gentle strokes.

“Did I hurt you?” said George quietly against Andrea’s neck.

“No,” breathed Andrea, “Not  _ really _ .”

“Hmm,” said George with a throaty chuckle, “So you wouldn’t mind if I did it  _ again _ ?”

Hands grasping her hips, George suddenly thrust upwards into Andrea with his full length, causing Andrea to seize up with a sharp inhale. Andrea answered George’s question with a cry of pleasure. She felt a freed hand gently tracing her face, and she opened her eyes. George was looking at her with such affection that Andrea felt pleasingly startled.

“You’re  _ so _ beautiful, Andrea,” said George softly, “It’s hard to believe, sometimes, that I’ve finally got you with me.”

As they stared at each other, George licked his dry lips and his eyes darkened very slightly.

“Hold  _ on _ ,” said George quietly, who leaned in to kiss Andrea gently.

Andrea braced herself. George wound Andrea’s arms more tightly around his shoulders and gripped her harder than ever. Suddenly, George lurched upwards using gravity to drive most of his rigid shaft into her. She felt like she might pass out, as he steadily pounded himself into her, small beads of sweat trickling gently down his chest between them.

As George quickened his pace, Andrea could feel hot blood rushing to her face. Her fingertips, lips, and toes were tingling. Having gotten a little more used to his intensity, Andrea succumbed to his movements and swayed with him as much as she was able. Andrea opened her eyes to meet George’s, which were fixed on hers. Her head reeled with pleasure. In that moment, she felt so incredibly connected with George on so many levels. She leaned forward, nibbled his lower lip, then licked it.

“Come for me, baby,” breathed Andrea, hardly believing the words that she had just uttered. “I know you  _ want _ to. Do it. I want to feel it.”

Seconds later, George let out a loud cry, and drove himself slowly and deeply into her, then pulled her head to rest on his neck, holding it there for a few moments, before letting her feet fall softly to the floor. He embraced her tightly for a long while.

Encapsulated by George’s strong arms, Andrea couldn’t remember ever feeling so satisfied and blissful. She traced her fingers over his strong back, feeling his smooth, dewy skin, and breathed in his scent with her face resting against his hot chest. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the amazing love-making or if it was simply because she had finally let her guard completely down with him, but she began to appreciate the true depth of her affection for him.

She remembered Fred’s words, ‘I reckon he’s in love with you.’ She couldn’t be certain if that was really how George felt, but Andrea now realized that she really  _ hoped _ that it was.

“You’ve got goosebumps,” said George softly, running a hand over Andrea’s back. “We’d better get dressed or we might get ill…”

George let go of Andrea, picked up her robes, and slid them over her head.

“Or at least that’s what  _ Mum _ says,” said George with a low chuckle, as he slipped on his clothes beside her. “Come on, let’s go down and sit next to the fire for a bit.”

George took Andrea by the hand and led her down the stairs in silence. Andrea wasn’t sure why, but she felt like a little awkwardness hung in the air between them. Since there was no furniture, George sat down with his back to a wooden pillar that stood in front of the fireplace and pulled Andrea down so that she could rest her back on his shins. The fire crackled happily as George ran his fingers through Andrea’s hair in silence.

“Did you…” said George tentatively, then cleared his throat and started again, “Was that good for you? I know I’m not very experienced, but I – ”

“ _ Yes _ ,” said Andrea, smiling at the fire that cast long shadows across the room, “And if I’m being honest, it was positively amazing. I have to wonder  _ how _ you learned to do all of that?”

“Wow…” said George, stopping his combing momentarily, “To be honest with you, I’ve been doing a bit of research… Well, anyway,  _ I _ thoroughly enjoyed it, but I think I could still do better.”

If he could do any better than  _ that _ , Andrea thought, she might actually end up passing out.

“ You wanna know what  _ I _ liked?” said George, with a naughty edge to his voice, “I liked how you called me ‘ _ baby _ .’ I could really get used to that. It’s so  _ sexy _ coming from you. You really had me going…”

Andrea had secretly hoped he’d forget about that little slip up. Oh well, she thought, at least he didn’t tease her for it – or bring up any of the other embarrassing exclamations she had let slip. She pushed her back hard against George’s legs, forcing them apart so that she could lay back on his chest.

“Hmm,” hummed George, in a low voice that rumbled through his chest into Andrea’s, “Having you close is perfect.”

He picked up one of her hands and laced his fingers through hers. Andrea felt incredibly content, laying there on the floor with George and having no one around to disturb them. She lifted his hand to her lips and gently kissed each of his knuckles.

“I’m an  _ incredibly _ lucky bloke, do you know that?” said George softly, “You’re smart, and independent, and funny, and just  _ brilliant _ … And on top of all of that you’re gorgeous. You’re a complete badass!”

“ _ Sure _ I am,” said Andrea, with a little laugh. He honestly sounded more like he was describing himself…

“Yes, you are!” said George incredulously, “I wasn’t kidding when I once said that I felt like our first time together was a dream. You are my dream… I… You sort of complete me, in a way.”

Andrea gulped and closed her eyes for a moment. He loved her. She was sure of it. A wave of complete bliss washed over her.

“I thought  _ this _ was your dream,” said Andrea teasingly, gesturing around to the empty shop.

“ _ Yes _ , well, the business is also my dream, Andrea. It’s great, but it’s not  _ everything _ . There are more important things in life,” said George. “The way I feel about you, it can’t be compared to something like a dream job. I love what I do, but I…”

Andrea sat up and turned so that she was facing George, her chest pressed against his lap. He looked distant.

“What?” said Andrea, encouragingly, “But you  _ what _ ?”

George took a deep breath and looked deliberately into Andrea’s eyes, “I love you, Andrea. There’s no way around it. I hope that doesn’t spook you or anything, but it’s true. My parents don’t have much, but they always set a pretty good example of a loving relationship, so I know what it looks like. I’ve felt that way about you for a while, Andrea…when we were just friends and all… but now that we’re together it’s right in my face and I can’t ignore it.”

Andrea stared back at him for a moment. He said it so matter-of-factly. It amazed Andrea the level of confidence George always seemed to have when it came to talking about his feelings. No shame. No doubt. She wished vaguely that she was more like that, but the longer she stared at George, the more she realized that he was hoping for a response.

“George,” said Andrea softly, tracing her finger from his hand, up his arm, and to his chest, “I feel the same… I love  _ you _ . I didn’t realize it at first, but I  _ do _ . A lot.”

George stared at her, smiling softly. Andrea got up, climbed onto his lap, and wound her legs around his waist so that she was sitting face to face with him. He gently touched her face, gliding his hand from her cheek to rest gently at the base of her neck. He was very quiet and seemed thoughtful.

“ _ Really _ ?” said George, finally.

“Mmhm…” said Andrea, playfully batting her lashes at him.

“Well,” said George, perking up, “Things just keep getting better and better, don’t they?”

He leaned forward and kissed Andrea slowly and gently, winding his arms around her waist and holding her tightly. Andrea felt so safe being there in his arms. Suddenly, they both noticed that the old street lamps outside were lit, and it was quite dark inside the empty shop except for their fire.

“I really don’t want this to end…” said Andrea softly, looking up into George’s kind eyes.

“Tonight it will have to, a little later, I’m afraid,” said George, lying down flat onto the floor and pulling Andrea with him so that she was once again lying with her head on his firm chest. “But we’ve got a while longer before I need to go… Anyway, let me just say that  _ this between _ us will not be ending if I have anything to do with it.”

They lie there for a while longer, cuddling by the fire and watching the snow fall down steadily outside. Eventually, they had to get up, extinguish the fire, and head back out into the frigid air outside. They walked together with arms around each other’s waists all the way back to Andrea’s family flat. 

“I’ll see you soon,  _ lovely _ ,” said George with a rascally wink, then bent down to kiss her softly beneath the snow covered lamp post in front of her apartment. “I’ll be thinking of you… You can count on that.”

“I’ll miss you,” said Andrea wrapping her arms tightly around him. “Thanks for spending the day with me. It was great.”

“More days like that to come, I think,” said George cheerfully, then backed away slowly so that Andrea could step inside her closed teahouse and peek out at him through the half open door.

“Goodnight then,” said Andrea, waving at George, who did an elaborate salute with a devilish grin before turning away and walking down the snowy street and out of sight.


	13. A New Empire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 11/17/2020

Andrea awoke Christmas morning to the soft hum of caroling from the street below her window. Andrea sat up, pushing off her green plush comforter and looked around for Frida. Frida was already sitting on the balcony wearing red flannel pajamas with Hugin perched precariously on her lifted knee, as she arranged several parcels around Andrea’s little Yule tree that they had set up in the corner overlooking Diagon Alley.

Hugin, noticing that Andrea was awake, swooped off of Frida and landed on Andrea’s shoulder, nuzzling her sweetly.

“Happy Christmas!” said Frida, dashing over to sit on the rug beside the bed. “You’ve got quite a few presents this morning! An owl showed up around nine o’clock and three more showed up half an hour ago! I put them under our tree next to our gifts. Are you hungry? Your mom brought up some tea and pumpkin pasties a few minutes ago and left them on the coffee table.”

“Frida,” yawned Andrea, rubbing her eyes and feeling a little assaulted, “I know it’s Christmas and everything, but give me a chance to wake up…”

“Come  _ on _ , Andrea,” said Frida, jumping onto the bed next to her, “It’s nearly eleven and I’ve been awake for  _ hours _ . I won’t take no for an answer.

“Come on,” said Frida, dragging Andrea out of bed by an arm, to Andrea’s mild annoyance, and pulled her down onto the rug. She left Andrea sitting there, still rather dazed, and hurried over to the fireplace to collect the tea tray, pumpkin pasties, and powdered lemon biscuits that Radhika had left, setting it onto the rug between them.

The tea and pasties were still warm and melted in her mouth. Frida sat in silence as Andrea enjoyed her breakfast. Andrea gradually felt more awake and was finally starting to feel excited about spending Christmas with Frida.

“You ready to see what you’ve gotten?” said Frida, as Andrea swallowed the last of the biscuits. “I expect we’ll do the family gift exchanges later, so most of the gifts here are yours.”

Andrea nodded and washed down her biscuit with a mouthful of tea while Frida rushed off to grab an armful of parcels from under the tree on the balcony. Frida sat down in front of her, beaming as she spread the packages out on the rug between them.

“Open  _ mine  _ first, will you?” said Frida, bouncing with excitement and pushing a thick, book-shaped package toward her. “I’ve been itching to give it to you ever since you arrived!”

Andrea ripped off the brown paper, exposing a shiny leather cover embellished with colorful stones.

“It’s  _ beautiful _ , Frida,” said Andrea, flipping through the large, thick, blank pages. “I love it!”

“It’s for you to write down all of the potions that you invent!” said Frida excitedly. “I thought of it when you wrote to me about the potion designing you’ve been doing in school. I’m so happy you like it!”

“Here’s yours,” said Andrea, handing Frida a small orange box.

“Ooo! Owls? You know I love owls!” said Frida lifting a pair of earrings which had enchanted owls perched on hoops, turning their horned heads and hooting softly.

“I know,” said Andrea grinning, “I thought you’d appreciate them. I found them in Hogsmeade a few weeks ago.”

Frida slipped in her earrings and watched as Andrea opened her remaining packages; the first parcel included two boxes, one large and one small, bound together with twine, and upon closer inspection, she found a small tag which indicated that the parcel was from Roger. All it said was, “ _ Happy Christmas. -Roger.” _

The first gift was a book called  _ A Witch’s Guide to Expressing Complex Emotions in a Modest World,  _ by Nancy Allgood. Andrea stared at the powder-lavender cover disbelievingly. Was this a  _ joke _ ?

“ _ Wow… _ ” said Frida, biting a nail with a half-smile, “What an interesting friend you’ve got there. I’d like to meet him – I can fight him for you.”

Andrea opened the second parcel which contained the most beautiful navy-blue, silk dress robes with intricate embroidery on the hem.   
“He’s sucking up because he knows he’s annoyed me with the book,” said Andrea, rubbing her hand over the opulent fabric. “He’s got a mighty allowance though – his parents come from old money, so he’s not getting off that easy.”

“What did you get  _ him?”  _ said Frida, eyes bulging as she gazed over the robes, “It’s kind of hard to compete with  _ that _ .”

“I got him a gift basket of his favorite sweets,” said Andrea somewhat bitterly, still resentful of the presumptuous book. “He’s got basically everything _ , _ so food usually is a favorite for him.”

Jamie’s parcel came with a note attached:

_ Dear Andrea, _

_ I sent my owl out kind of late, so I hope it reaches you in time for Christmas. Please write to me to let me know how Pat is doing. Things are good here in Ireland – we are staying home in Clare and not going down to Kilkenny after all. I hope you like your gifts! I have a feeling you’ll be needing them soon. Love you and happy Christmas. _

_ Love Jamie _

Jamie had packed up about twenty glass bottles, vials, and corked jars into a box, presumably meant to store Andrea’s potions.

“Great minds think alike,” said Frida, taking the bottles and laying them next to her leather-bound potion book. “I want to see what  _ George _ sent! Open that one!”

“I’m saving it for last,” admitted Andrea, as she unwrapped Eliza’s gift. She had given her a small wooden box with intricate knotwork carved into it. The box had been spell-o-taped shut and had a note fastened on top.

_ Dear Andrea _

_ Happy Christmas! Rest assured that I’ve been tending to your potion exactly as you instructed, and it seems to be progressing as you said it would. I had a bit of an awkward encounter with Snape the other day… He wasn’t satisfied that I wasn’t trying to sabotage your potion until I showed him the instructions you’d left for me. I’ve been trying to avoid him, but he’s been hanging about over my shoulder whenever I’m down there ever since he discovered what I’m doing for you. He doesn’t seem to want to risk letting me destroy your potion, so he’s been keeping watch for you… He must like you. Anyway, I hope Pat is okay and that your holidays have been pleasant. Your gift can only be reopened by the first person who opens it – that’s why it’s taped shut, so you can keep your jewelry in there at school so that no one…Holly… gets sticky fingers in the dormitory. I look forward to having you back here soon… I miss you guys. _

_ Best Wishes, Eliza _

“That’s neat!” said Andrea, opening up her enchanted box and admiring its red velvet lining. Finally, Andrea looked up at Frida who was watching with great interest, and reached for the last gift.

George had sent a large box, with an envelope affixed to the top. After refusing to read the letter out loud to Frida, Andrea was persuaded to hand it over once she had finished.

“ _ Dear Andrea, _

_ Happy Christmas! We are staying at a friend’s house for Christmas this year, and Mum’s kept us busy helping tidy up the place. It’s pretty bad… We’re going to go visit Dad today again and we’re hoping he can come home soon. Anyway, I’ve had a bit of time in the evenings to think, since we’re away from home, and I wanted to take the time to write to you about some of the things on my mind about you. First thing is that I want you to visit my family over the Summer. Percy won’t be here, so you don’t have to worry about Penelope either. Second thing is that I haven’t been able to get you off my mind for a single minute since this past weekend. I almost made Mum drop the casserole she had made for dinner last night because I wasn’t looking where I was going… It’s mad how the more time we get to spend together, the more crazy I am to be around you again. The dreams I’ve been having lately… Well, let’s just say I’ll be glad to see you again. I probably won’t be able to escape Mum until term starts, so I’ll see you at King’s Cross. I’ll be waiting on the platform for you. I got the owl with my present from you this morning. The rope of silence has come in handy already, we put it in front of the crack of the doors so the manky old house elf that lives here can’t eavesdrop on us. The dumgbombs were great too… See you soon, and don’t be like me – stay out of trouble. _

_ Love you, George” _

Andrea smiled to herself.

“Have you finished it, then?” said Frida, snatching it out of Andrea’s hands without waiting for an answer and pouring over the letter, her green eyes sparkling with lust for drama. “ _ Loves  _ you, does he?” 

Meanwhile, Andrea opened up the box to find a large tin of Earl Grey tea and a wide variety of what looked like sticks of dynamite. Andrea hoped they were fireworks rather than crude explosives…

“Fireworks?” asked Frida hopefully, “Excellent! We can try them out on New Year’s Eve!”

“And if they’re anything like most of the twins’ inventions, they should be pretty unusual,” said Andrea.

“They  _ made _ these?” said Frida, picking up a curly red specimen.

“Yeah, I think so,” said Andrea, sniffing a fragrant jasmine green tea that George had sent. “He definitely mentioned that they were working on fireworks once.”

“Well I approve of  _ this _ present,” said Frida hotly, scooting over to take a better look at the book Roger had gotten for Andrea. “ _ This  _ however,” she said, brandishing the book and tossing it over her shoulder, “Is a complete atrocity!

“What  _ nerve _ that man has!” said Frida, eyes flaring dangerously, “The more I think about it, the more it bugs me! He’s so nosey! He thinks he’s so  _ clever _ ! I have a mind to confront him!”

“You haven’t even  _ met _ him, Frida,” said Andrea, laughing at her mental image of Frida heckling Roger. She supposed the interaction would probably resemble the Weasley Twins versus their bowtruckes in Herbology. “He’s always like this. It’s not that big of a deal. I’ll deal with him later.” 

“ _ So _ what? And what do I care if he hasn’t met me?” said Frida indignantly, as she stomped across the flat to Andrea’s desk and picked up a quill and a piece of parchment. “He knows who  _ I _ am, does he not? Yes? Well, then he won’t be  _ too _ confused when he receives my letter, then!”

Was she really going to write to Roger? It appeared to be so. Frida jabbed the quill into Andrea’s ink well, nearly upturning it, and began scribbling violently onto a piece of parchment. This should be interesting.

“Frida,” said Andrea, resisting the urge to laugh at her fury, “It’s really not necessary, I can deal with him  _ myself _ when we go back to Hog – ”

“ _ You _ are too easy on him,  _ honestly, _ ” snapped Frida, not looking away from the steadily growing paragraph that she was savagely inscribing. “He’s  _ supposed _ to be your friend! He’s not supposed to point out your weak points at  _ Christmas _ – as if you would believe that he  _ really  _ was trying to help you! Your communication style is  _ none _ of his concern!”

“It really doesn’t bother me  _ that _ much…” said Andrea, wondering why Frida was taking this so seriously. She always had a chip on her shoulder about semi-arrogant men, but she had not ever met Roger.

“Well it does  _ me!”  _ said Frida, sealing the letter with a wax press with a little too much force. “And I can write to whoever I like, so just don’t worry about it, Andrea. This doesn’t concern you at this point – this is between me and your  _ friend _ . Siggi!”

Siggi swooped over obediently, hopped onto Frida’s knee, and stuck out her leg for Frida to fasten on the letter.

“Please deliver this letter to  _ Roger Davies _ from Andrea’s school, dearie,” said Frida patting Siggi’s little head and looking stubbornly over at Andrea, as if to show her  _ just _ how serious she was about the matter. Siggi flew out the balcony door and out into the snowy morning glow.

“What did you  _ say _ – in the letter?” said Andrea, giggling slightly at the prospect of Roger facing Frida’s fierce side. She was a true force to be reckoned with, and Andrea suspected that Roger would have no notion of just how relentless Frida could be.

“Hm…” said Frida, tilting her nose up and staring out the window dramatically, as if recalling a distant memory. “Well, I think I said something to the effect of ‘If you’re such a  _ gentleman, _ as you seem to fancy yourself, then you should learn a little more  _ class _ …’ Something like that… I’m sure he can tell you more about it  _ himself _ when you see him.”

“Oh Frida,” said Andrea, who was giggling hard now, “He’s  _ not _ going to appreciate that at  _ all. _ ”

“ _ Good! _ ” said Frida, biting back a smile and stealing a sly glance at Andrea. “That’s the  _ point! _ I’m putting him in his place! Come on, let’s go down and spend Christmas with everyone. I’m tired of being angry!”

Andrea seriously doubted that. In fact, it seemed to give Frida immense pleasure to become outraged by most things, but Andrea thought it best not to point that out.

Andrea and Frida joined their families in the living room flat, where Pat was, propped up on a sofa by many pillows, between Andrea’s father and Frida’s mother. He had been out of the hospital for only two days, and he seemed in higher spirits than ever, in spite of looking a bit yellow. Radhika was handing James a tray of ginger when they walked in.

“Happy Christmas, girls!” said Robert, beckoning them to sit near them on the rug in front of the fire next to him and Pat.

Andrea made her way around the room hugging everyone in turn, until she realized at the end that Penelope was not there.

“Erm… where’s my sister?” said Andrea scanning the room, spotting Hugin nipping at Millie’s tail on the other side of the flat, narrowly dodging her clawed retaliation. No sign of Penelope.

“Your  _ sister _ ,” said Radhika, swelling up as if she had been waiting for an opportunity to have a tirade on the topic, “Wrote us last night inviting us to spend Christmas at her new apartment with  _ Percy _ , instead of here at home! Can you  _ believe  _ it?! First, she needlessly moves out to live  _ alone _ , then she thinks we all are obligated to leave  _ our _ home, much to the inconvenience of dear Patrick, just so she can spend Christmas  _ there? _

“I told her that she and Percy are  _ more _ than welcome to come  _ here _ but  _ nooo! _ ” said Radhika, throwing her arms up into the air and placing an outstretched palm briefly against her forehead. “They  _ must _ be  _ there _ on  _ this _ day! I told her that she is putting us out, and she had the  _ nerve _ to act offended that we are staying  _ home _ with family as we ought to! She never shows up here anymore, but you would at least think that she’d like to spend the holidays with her  _ family _ !”

She rounded on Robert, who looked a little squirmy and kept glancing at their guests, “ _ Percy _ isn’t her family! I don’t see him making any moves to marry her after they got engaged? Who  _ does  _ that? Why would she move out only to live separately from him! It’s completely insensible. Mama is already on my back about it as it is! Oh no, no,  _ no _ … I won’t  _ stand _ for this!”

“Darling,” said Robert soothingly, getting to his feet and taking her hands. “I know you’re upset, I am too, but let’s not let it spoil the day for everyone else. Alright? We’ll talk to her later…”

Luckily, Andrea’s father could charm, calm, or invigorate nearly anyone with the greatest of ease, and fortunately for everyone else, her mother did not spend any more time that day fussing about Penelope. They opened presents, had tea around four, and had a splendid Christmas dinner later that evening.

The rest of the week consisted of delightfully lazy days spent lounging around with Frida, keeping Pat company, and helping him move around if needed. Pat served as a constant reminder of something that Andrea had been putting off for a while. 

Andrea had yet to suggest to her parents that they stay with her maternal grandparents in the country for a while after she was finished studying at Hogwarts. It was clear that it would not be safe for her father to remain in Diagon Alley now that You-Know-Who was back. It was  _ not _ clear how long You-Know-Who would stay in hiding, or if he would rise to as much power as he had in the old days, but Andrea wanted to be proactive.

It wouldn’t be safe for Frida’s family either. Whoever had attacked Pat could easily find his London apartment and finish what they had started – once and for all. They would probably do the same or worse to the rest of the family. Andrea preferred not to think about it, but something had to be done.

New Year’s Eve came and went. Fred and George’s fireworks were a great success – apparently you could set them off indoors without burning down the house, but Andrea still had not managed to bring up her plan, to take over the tea shop after Hogwarts, to her parents even though she would be going back to Hogwarts in only two days.

“They’re going to  _ hate _ the idea…” said Andrea, as she and Frida sipped tea in front of her fireplace Saturday evening before her return to Hogwarts. “Mum’s already in a state because of Penelope, so I just  _ know _ she’s going to be hard to talk to. She’s a bit difficult at the best of times.”

“Yeah, well, you’re running out of time to say it in person so you’d better get a move on,” said Frida, looking up from painting her toenails with a bottle of black polish. “They’ve got to hear it. I’m all for it! I wouldn’t mind hanging around your grandparents’ place. It’s lovely there, and I’ve got to quit my job anyway by the look of things… might as well spend it helping your grandad with the horses.”

“And hippogriffs, and his winged abraxan…” added Andrea, who suspected that Frida would regret volunteering to help her grandfather tend to all of his equine beasts. Her grandparents lived near Holystone, inside the Northumberland National Park, in a cottage with many acres of land surrounding it. Her grandfather, Honza, had a passion for horse-like creatures and spent most of his day wandering the meadows and forests tending to them.

“ _ Dědeček _ is going to have you up at the crack of dawn if you give him the impression that you are there to help,” said Andrea, peering at Frida over her teacup. “Or did you forget how my grandfather had you shoveling horse dung for half of the day last time we visited?”

“Well if I don’t have a  _ job _ and we’re living there for  _ free _ ,” said Frida crossly, “Then I might as well make myself useful,  _ shouldn’t _ I? Oh look! There’s an owl on the balcony! Go let it in, Andrea!”

“Oh, it’s Roger’s owl…” said Andrea, hopping up from her chair and hurrying over to the sliding glass door to let Roger’s large barred owl into the flat. The owl swooped into the room, causing Hugin to jump around on his ceiling swings and squawk threateningly at the bird. It landed on the back of Frida’s chair, extending a scaly leg importantly.

“It’s for  _ you _ , Frida,” said Andrea, watching as Frida gaped at the bird for a moment before fumbling with an envelope which had her name inscribed elegantly on one side.

Andrea settled back in front of the fire under a wooly blanket and watched Frida in anticipation. She was fairly sure that she knew what this was about… Sure enough, Frida’s expression changed gradually from excited curiosity to full-on outrage as her eyes zipped back and forth down each line.

“Oooo…” growled Frida glowering at the parchment in her hands, denting the edge with her fingertips from holding it with such force. “Oh, he’s a  _ bloody _ bastard…”

“What does it say?” asked Andrea, who, in spite of herself, found the whole situation secretly amusing.

“ _ Here,” _ said Frida, thrusting the parchment out for Andrea to read, “Read what your  _ friend _ had the nerve to say to me!”

Andrea took the parchment and smoothed it out so that she could better read it by an oil lamp which hung between them. Roger’s handwriting was distinct, even at first glance, with its elegant curling letters that made his social status apparent. Andrea held the parchment closer to the lamp and read.

_ “Dearest Frida, _

_ Andrea has told me much about you, and while I expected to meet you one day, I confess myself surprised to hear from you by letter before we had ever been formally introduced. I was disappointed to hear that you found my gift to Andrea, ‘disgusting and rude,’ as I thought that our mutual friend would find the volume quite informative. Perhaps, in fact, Andrea herself took no issue with my gift, as it is you writing to me instead of her. In that past, Andrea has always fought her battles for herself and hasn’t ever needed my, nor anyone else’s, help in doing so. I then must venture to assume that it is you, who took offense to Andrea’s gift, despite the fact that the gift was not intended for you. My humblest apologies for not considering that you would be assessing the quality and decency of Andrea’s Christmas gifts whilst you are her guest. Perhaps I should have written to Andrea beforehand to ensure that I understood the nature of topics that you might be ‘sensitive’ to in order to avoid perturbing you in any form. I dare say that subjects involving self-expression must be touchy for you, as I doubt you would have called me such appalling names as ‘tasteless, tactless, troll’ were you not so very distressed. From all of Andrea’s accounts, you are a fine lady, despite your humble beginnings, and I will pardon your harsh words as the results of your oversensitivity. It is probably best for your nerves, as well as for mine, that you do not attempt to mediate interactions between Andrea and myself so as to prevent you from becoming further distressed by matters that you do not comprehend. Do advise me if you desire any recommendations for books regarding deep breathing exercises for temper management. We have a few somewhere in our personal library. I do hope you are well, and I wish you the very best. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Roger Cornelius Davies _

“Well,” said Andrea, after reading over Roger’s letter and choosing her next words carefully. “I can say that you definitely got under his skin, if that was your original intent.”

“My  _ intent _ ,” said Frida, dumping a liberal spoon of sugar into her fresh cup of tea, “Was to make him see the error of his ways! That has clearly  _ failed! _ He might think he’s shut me up,  _ oh _ , but he is  _ so _ wrong about that…”

“Frida, he’s just as stubborn as you are,” said Andrea, getting up to put a book that she had been reading back on the shelf. “There’s really no point in acknowledging his letter. He’s not going to behave any better, and he certainly won’t repent. Roger is a nice guy, but he doesn’t like having his ego hurt.”

“Honestly, I don’t  _ care, _ Andrea,” said Frida, snatching up a piece of parchment and marching over to the coffee table to begin writing a new letter to Roger. “ _ I _ don’t like my ego being hurt either, and this ‘nice guy’ outright  _ insulted _ me. I won’t stand for it!”

“Okay then… as you wish,” said Andrea, slipping on some slippers and a warm jumper. “I have a feeling you two won’t find any peace with one another if you keep up this way. Anyway, I’m going to go ahead and finally talk to my parents while you do that. Hopefully, I’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck,” said Frida, before dipping a quill in to some ink and chewing her thumb thoughtfully while looking down at the blank parchment before her.

Andrea couldn’t be sure if the conversation between her parents and herself would be fruitful, but she had a feeling that this was bound to be a long night.

* * *

“WHAT?! Have you gone mad!?” said Radhika, nearly choking on her tea. “Are both of our daughters going mad?”

Andrea and her parents sat at a small iron table, on the candlelit rooftop of their home, amongst a jungle of plants kept alive by her mother’s protective bubble charm.

“How in the name of Merlin do you intend to run this shop – this  _ house _ – all by yourself? And from the sound of it, you imply that we would be living with my parents for an indefinite amount of time!” said Radhika intently.

“ _ Mum _ , to be honest, one person  _ can  _ run this shop most days,” said Andrea, looking desperately at her father for support, but he was staring thoughtfully down into his whisky glass which he clasped between both hands. “And other, busier days I could enlist some help from… friends! And yes, it’s not ideal for you all to live with  _ Nani _ and  _ Dědeček _ , but it’s safer for Dad. And for  _ you _ !

“ _Before_ you argue with me” said Andrea, holding up a hand to show her mom that she was not finished, “Yes – people _do_ know that Dad’s a muggle. It’s gotten around somehow, and I know that for _sure_ because some brat was making rude remarks about it at the start of term. I know _I_ didn’t mention it to that bratty fool, but he somehow knows, and he’s _just_ the sort that we don’t want knowing that. There are rumors that his father is a death eater…”

“Darling,” said Robert gently to his wife, “I can go stay with your parents and Pat’s family. Getting  _ my _ parents on board with this plan, as  _ you _ suggested Andrea, will be a challenge – you know how they feel about being around magic, but I don’t mind living there until we really know how bad the situation is. You can come visit in the evenings. We could –”

“ _ Jaanu _ ! You know I won’t leave your side!” said Radhika testily, raising an eyebrow at him. “Besides, how  _ could  _ we leave our baby here all  _ alone _ ! If it’s dangerous for  _ us _ then it’s dangerous for  _ her _ too! Who is going to look after her? Who will make sure she is safe and accounted for?”

“I’m still planning on becoming an animagus, Maa,” said Andrea cautiously – her mom did not completely approve of her transforming so young. “Professor McGonagall says I’m ready. I will be able to make a quick getaway unrecognized if need be. Besides, George will be here… He and Fred are opening up a shop at the end of the term just down the street.”

Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and eyed Andrea curiously in silence, pursing her lips.

“Hm,” said her mum indignantly, “I now have two questions. One – when do you think you’ll have time to undergo the transformation between taking your N.E.W.T.’s and having us moving in with my parents? Two – since when is it  _ ‘George _ ’ instead of ‘the twins’ or ‘Fred and George?’ Now it’s ‘ _ George _ will look after me Maa,’ is it? Is there  _ something _ going on between you two? I’ve been growing suspicious that something has been going on– is it  _ him _ ?”

Andrea glowered back at her mother with her arms folded identically to her mother. After a few moments of tense silence, her father cleared his throat pointedly. Andrea was holding back all kinds of retorts. She could not stand how stubborn and nosey her mother could be. She could no longer restrain herself.

“That was a  _ lot  _ more than two questions…” said Andrea icily.

“ _ Betee _ , don’t _ try _ me,” said Radhika, her dark eyes flashing even in the low light of the candles floating above them. “Answer each question if you please. One by one. It doesn’t matter how many I asked.”

Andrea sighed deeply and took a long sip of her tea. She did not really want to talk about her relationship with George with her parents until… later. She also had not planned on telling them she would be undergoing the transformation at school, much less without Ministry supervision. She would have to try and see how much she could get away with not telling them tonight. The move with her grandparents was already enough for her mother to process for one night.

“Alright,” said Andrea slowly, looking between her father’s soft blue eyes and her mother’s deep black eyes. Both were staring expectantly at her – her father with relaxed curiosity and her mother with charged interest. “George and I… are  _ together _ .

“It hasn’t been official for long,” said Andrea, as her mother looked both flabbergasted and smug simultaneously. “But he and I have known each other for a while, as you know, and now we want to be together as a couple.”

Her parents exchanged a meaningful side glance, then both continued to gape at Andrea. Hugin materialized out of the darkness, as he came in from being out and about all day, and landed sleepily on Andrea’s shoulder, croaking softly.

“Were you  _ really _ not going to tell me this?” said Radhika, dramatically. She was clearly trying to appear scandalized, which she surely was in part, but it was clear to Andrea that Radhika could not help but to allow her excitement at the prospect of Andrea having a love-interest shine through.

“I was – I just was waiting for the right time…” said Andrea glancing at her father who was looking at the sky above, trying not to grin.

“Oh? ‘ _ The right time, _ ’ she says!” said Radhika, tossing her hands up, “Do you love him?”

Her mother loved this kind of thing. Addressing her questions about George first was the right move. Hopefully, it would be enough to distract her from the animagus topic.

“Erm… well, yeah, I guess I do,” said Andrea quietly, glancing up at her mum who was leaning over the table, hanging onto Andrea’s every word.

“ _ Well _ !” said her mother after soaking in Andrea’s confession, “I  _ am _ disappointed you didn’t tell us about this before,  _ but _ I am quite pleased. I  _ adore  _ those boys – so polite, so respectful! So ambitious! So much better than that  _ Percy _ . Poor Molly, but I suppose I’m in the same boat, in a way – with Penny…”

Andrea wondered vaguely what her mother would think if she really understood just how  _ “polite” _ the twins were… Her father shot Andrea a disdainful look and shook his head chuckling.

“Do you approve, Robert dear?” said Radhika, putting a hand on his arm, making him jump.

“George is a nice lad from what I can tell…” said Robert, swirling his whiskey in his glass pensively, “He and Fred have certainly caused Arthur quite a bit of grief over the years, but his heart is in the right place – like the rest of that family. I’m glad to hear they’ve got plans for their business.”

“I wonder if he wants children…” said Radhika.

“So will you at least  _ consider _ letting me take over after I’m done at Hogwarts?” said Andrea, not wanting her mother to get carried away with the “George” topic. Andrea shared a meaningful look with her father, willing him to be the voice of reason.

Her mother opened her mouth with a look that clearly meant that she intended on denying Andrea’s request, but her father cut her off.

“Yes, darling Andrea,” said Robert, taking his wife by the hand and looking at her warningly. “ We will consider your proposition, but we won’t make any decisions just now. Let your mum and I talk about it first.”

And that was as much as Andrea could get from them. It had gone a little better than she had originally anticipated, and her mother even refrained from making too many passive-aggressive remarks about her suggestion for the most of the remaining weekend. Come Sunday morning, any previous annoyance with Andrea had seemed to have dissipated; her mother kissed her cheeks, as Andrea said goodbye to her family and Frida.

“I love you all,” Andrea said, hoisting her bag on her shoulder and adjusting her grip on Hugin’s cage as she stood by the tea shop door looking around at her family, who were all seated having breakfast. “ _ Please,  _ be safe everyone.”

Andrea looked at Pat, who was propped up in a booth in the tea room, looking much better than he had last week, but he was still weak. He smiled wryly and knowingly at Andrea.

“Don’t worry, love,” said Pat gruffly, “I’ll take care of ‘em for you.”

That was not very reassuring. Frida put down her tea, got up from the other side of the booth, and gave Andrea a firm hug.

“It’s okay,” said Frida quietly, “They’ll see sense. You’ll see. I love you, and I’m going to miss you, lady.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” said Andrea, her heart tightening, as she was gripped with just how true this was. “I’ll be home before you know it. I’ll keep writing often”

“You’d better,” said Frida, raising an eyebrow, as Andrea waved one last time over her shoulder and exited the shop.

Andrea was so deep in thought by the time she arrived at platform 9 ¾ that she had nearly forgotten George’s owl that he had sent in the early hours of the morning. His family had apparently decided to take the Knight Bus for whatever reason (Andrea could not possibly imagine why one would  _ want _ to).

Andrea slipped onto the platform and hurried over to the Hogwarts Express to find a compartment. The journey was long, as always, but pleasant. Andrea could not find Jamie nor Roger straight away, so she settled down in a compartment and was soon joined by several first year Hufflepuffs, of whom she paid no mind as she read the latest issue of  _ Transfiguration Today _ .

Hours later, Andrea finally arrived at the Hogsmeade platform, climbed off the Hogwarts express into the crisp air. She was just about to head down to the path to Hogwarts to join the line of students waiting for the carriages to arrive, when she spotted George leaning up against a pillar by the path to Hogsmeade.

He stood alone, facing the path, with his bag at his feet and flipping through a notebook, presumably something business-related, and did not seem to notice as Andrea approached him.

Andrea tip-toed over, careful not to upturn Hugin in his cage, and edged close up behind him as he poured over his notebook.

“Boo!” said Andrea, hopping up at his ear from behind, sending him staggering forward and causing Hugin to start an uproar.

“Blimey, Andrea!” said George catching his breath, holding his hand against his chest, “You almost made me wet myself!”

He glowered down at her, smiling in spite of himself, before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“I’ll forgive you I suppose – if only because I’ve missed you something terrible,” said George slyly, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. “Sorry I couldn’t ride up with you by the way. Mum had a sudden change of plans, and believe me, you do  _ not  _ want to ride that bus all the way here from London. Luckily for you, I’ve got the remedy for projectile vomiting right here – y’know the second end of the puking pastel?

“Anyhow, come this way, Ginny’s decided that she needs some more ink and parchment because she had apparently forgotten to get some while we were in London.”

George led Andrea by the hand down the short path to the village where they sat down on a bench just outside the quills shop.

“Where’s Fred?” asked Andrea as she let Hugin out of his cage to soar up into the cloudy sky towards the direction of the castle.

“Fred? He’s up at the castle, I reckon,” said George leaning back lying down across the entirety of the bench to rest his head in Andrea’s lap. “We’ve been here for ages already actually. Turns out the Knight Bus is actually a lot faster. I wanted to wait for you though…”

George sat up suddenly and pulled Andrea close beside him, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her tenderly and slowly, then pulled her back to gaze into her eyes.

“Has anyone ever told you that you smell amazing?” said George quietly, smiling thoughtfully. “You smell like roses and something like…maybe cake!”

“Thanks,” said Andrea, smiling, privately knowing that he was smelling the rose and vanilla from her perfume. “You smell nice too…”

“Oh…” said George, chuckling, with a glint in his eye, “It’s going to be especially hard to behave from now – on I can already tell.”

Andrea agreed entirely, taking his head in her hands and kissing him deeply.

“Oh sweet Merlin…” said a voice, causing Andrea to break immediately into a cold sweat and jump back from George.

Ginny stood in the doorway of the shop beside them, mouth hanging open, with her hand still on the door latch.

“Oh, hiya Ginny!” said George brightly, taking her bag out of her frozen hand, “Didn’t hear you coming out!”

“Clearly not,” said Ginny, still especially pale from shock, staring back and forth between Andrea and George. “Sorry… by the way,” said Ginny to Andrea, “I er… wow… I didn’t see that coming.  _ Why _ is it always  _ me _ who walks in on my brothers snogging!?”

Ginny threw herself down on a bench next to Andrea and George, and laid her head in her hands. Surprisingly, Andrea suspected that she was not feeling nearly as embarrassed about Ginny walking in on them as Ginny was.

“Oh yeah!” said George, flumping down next to Andrea and resting his head in her lap again before looking up at her. “Did you  _ know _ that Ginny walked in on your sister and Percy snogging three years ago?”

“Well, at least you two didn’t make me feel as awkward about it…” said Ginny, looking up from her hands, still blushing slightly. After a moment, Ginny said, “How long, has  _ this _ been going on then? I can’t believe I didn’t see this  _ coming! _ ”

George smiled up at Andrea challengingly, waiting for her to respond.

“Well…” said Andrea, looking into Ginny’s brown eyes, “ _ This _ has been going on since October, I suppose.”

Ginny’s jaw dropped.

“How did you not  _ tell _ me?!” said Ginny, rounding on George. “Especially with how nosey you and Fred are about  _ my  _ business! How didn’t I know you had a girlfriend?? And  _ Andrea _ no less! Come on, George – don’t get me wrong, it’s brilliant, but this is  _ big  _ news!”

“Well, we weren’t  _ official _ until just before Christmas,” said George, waggling his eyebrows at Ginny. “Anyway, you took forever to tell us about that Ravenclaw bloke you’re dating, what’s his name again? Michael Corner isn’t it? A fifth year? So you can’t really be mad about me keeping at least Andrea’s private business  _ private. _ ”

Ginny’s eyes widened as she guessed at the potential depths of Andrea and George’s  _ unofficial _ doings. She was only fourteen after all. Andrea slowly ran her fingers through George’s silky hair.

It was probably for the best that Ginny came outside as soon as she did. Andrea had a feeling that both of them would have had difficulty keeping their hands to themselves, and they  _ were _ outside in public. Andrea wondered if Jamie and Roger were looking for her in the carriage lineup, as she watched the sun peeking through the clouds above.

They probably still had some time. The train had arrived in the station early, and the carriages were not as punctual during breaks as they were during the beginning and end of term. If they came at all…

“Hey lovely,” said George, looking up at Andrea pulling her attention back toward his and Ginny’s conversation, “Do you remember the first time you came to the Burrow?”

“Hm?” said Andrea, refocusing, “Oh, yeah, the time that your mum invited us all over for that picnic the summer after Penelope got petrified three years ago – yeah, and she and Percy finally made their relationship public. Why? Oh – also we should head back over to the station if we want to make the carriages.”

“No reason,” said George, grabbing Andrea’s free hand in his and held it close to his lips, kissing it lightly, before getting up. “I just think that was a funny day. You were so adorable, letting Mum fuss over you like she does.”

“I’m surprised that you remember that,” said Andrea. It had been a relatively awkward day, and she had thought that the twins were too busy bothering Percy back then to notice anything beyond that.

“Of course I do,” said George, as Ginny and Andrea stood up, gathered their belongings, and headed towards the station. “You and Ginny helped Mum de-gnome the garden, and Penelope stayed inside with Percy and your parents. She was telling everyone some hogwash about you being ‘unrefined,’ so Fred and I decided to sneak a handful of slugs into her pumpkin juice… Good times!”

“You think  _ that’s _ good?” said Ginny, “You still don’t know about what me and Andrea did that day!”

“Oh ho! This should be very interesting!” said George, gleefully, “Well, do  _ tell _ ladies…”

“Do you remember how you, Fred, Ron, Bill, and Charlie played Quidditch after lunch that day? And you all wouldn’t let me play,  _ as usual _ ?” said Ginny, who was clearly still bitter about it.

“Sure, I do!” said George eagerly, “That was the time when Charlie rubbed gnome dung along my team’s broom sticks. Bloody liar, he wouldn’t even ‘fess up afterwards, but we all knew it was him! He’d been sneaking around the broom shed for a good ten minutes after we had all claimed our brooms, and his team’s broomsticks were spotless! It took us all of half an hour to clean up before we could actually start. Why? Did you alter the score or something?”

Andrea and Ginny exchanged a mischievous glance.

“Actually… no” said Andrea, biting back a grin, “It wasn’t Charlie who messed up your brooms…”

“Who…who was it then?” said George, disbelievingly.

“It was  _ us _ , dummy!” said Ginny, throwing a wad of loose parchment from her shopping bag at him., “You deserved it too! Leaving us out and all – just because we’re girls! You were just scared that’d we’d make fools of you and somehow undermine your masculinity.”

“You two?!” said George, looking wildly between Andrea and Ginny in impressed astonishment. “You both were so quiet! And you let us blame poor Charlie on it?  _ Dirty  _ move! Ginny, I might have suspected you somehow, but  _ you _ helped Andrea? There’s a surprise! I didn’t know such pranks were in you repertoire.”

“Actually, it was  _ her  _ suggestion…” said Ginny, slyly.

“You were so  _ silly _ , George,” said Andrea, smirking and staring at him as he regarded her with a new amazement. “If you really  _ had _ fancied me back then, you could have used the opportunity to give me private flying lessons instead of putting us out. Not very smart, was it? You really shouldn’t have gotten on my bad side…”

“Apparently not…” said George, still dazed.

“I guess you two really are a smart match, then,” said Ginny, grinning mischievously, “And as far as I’m concerned, much smarter a match than our older siblings… At least you two are tolerable.”

“ _ Tolerable _ !?” said George and Andrea together.

Andrea looked at George, then Ginny, and all three soon burst out laughing.

They soon arrived back at Hogsmeade Station, Andrea, George and Ginny hurried over to the lineup, which was now heading up the hill to the carriages, and looked for Jamie and Roger. Ginny ran off to find Michael, but Andrea spotted Jamie’s head of red hair as at the end of the line, which was now drawing closer to where they were standing, so Andrea stood and waited with George.

“Well, well…” said Jamie with a naughty grin as she and Roger approached, pointing at Andrea and George where they each had an arm wrapped around the others’ waist. “Aren’t the two of you a  _ handsome  _ pair! How lovely…”

“Thank you dear,” said George winking at Jamie, “I like this one Andrea, shame Fred doesn’t like redheads…”

“Ah! I see my gift was of some  _ use _ to you after all,” said Roger to Andrea pompously, as he joined them to walk up the hill a short ways to the carriages.

“ _ You _ … you and I are going to have a little chat later, speaking of which,” said Andrea, shooting him a threatening glance.

“I wouldn’t bother,” said Roger, opening the door to a nearby carriage, “You’re little friend,  _ Frida _ , and I have been in frequent contact on the subject, so I think you couldn’t  _ possibly _ have more to say on the matter than she does.”

“You’d be surprised…” said Andrea, climbing into a carriage behind Jamie.

George and Roger argued good-naturedly about Quidditch, as they jostled along to the castle. Upon arrival, Andrea noticed something odd. A large pink puff stood just to the side of the great oak doors at the top of the stairs. As they got closer, it was apparent that there was a person inside the pink puff – the puff itself was a ridiculously furry trench coat.

Professor Umbridge stood, smiling foully at the students filing through the doors, with her clipboard in hand. She scanned the students with her eyes as they entered, stopping directly on Andrea and George, who were holding hands.

“ _ Ahem _ !” said Umbridge shrilly, pretending to clear her throat and pointing at them, “Excuse me,  _ no  _ touching, if you please!”

Andrea, dropped George’s hand, not wanting any trouble, but George wound his arm around her waist snuggly as they passed through the front doors.

“Well,  _ she’s  _ only gotten worse I see,” said Jamie with false cheer.

The group swerved as Peeves swooped through the entrance hall over the arriving students, cackling maniacally as he whacked at their ankles with an armful of walking sticks. Andrea rushed to the marble stairs, away from the shrieks of the students behind them, wanting to avoid Umbridge who was likely to come in and inspect the commotion.

“I don’t even  _ want _ to know what she’s doing out there,” said Andrea, as they climbed the marble stairs to put their bags away and get ready for dinner. “Flitwick said this would happen… He said she’s going to be making more policy changes this term if the Minister of Magic granted the requests that she filed before the holidays.”

“Well, from the look on her fat face, I’d say she’s gotten her way,” said George, stopping on the landing where he would split off to Gryffindor Tower. “See you in a bit, Andrea, love. I’m starved and dinner is smelling great already, so I’ll probably beat you there.”

He winked, kissed her lips quickly, then dashed up the stairs towards his common room.

“ _ Wow _ ,” said Jamie, grinning with narrowed eyes as they ascended the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower. “You’ve clearly been busy… You’ve got a  _ lot  _ of filling in to do later!”

“I guess I do, don’t I?” said Andrea, glancing back down the stairs behind her. Despite the ominous implications of Umbridge’s latest appearance, Andrea could not help but feel inexplicably buoyant as she walked into the beautiful Ravenclaw common room for her final term at Hogwarts.


	14. The Hog's Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: Nov 29, 2020

"You did  _ what? _ ” said Jamie, mouth gaping, as she, Andrea, Roger, and Eliza sat in front of the fireplace in the Ravenclaw common room after dinner. Her friends had wanted to know about how her holiday was, especially considering the drama surrounding her godfather. Their interest seemed particularly peaked at the mention of her date with George in Diagon Alley. Andrea did not really mind telling them, more or less, what happened at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes – especially compared with the idea of telling them about the prefect’s bathroom mishap.

“So  _ what _ ?” said Andrea, shrugging, “Where were we supposed to do it? My parents’ house with everyone awake and at home?”

“Oh, no – you misunderstand!” said Jamie, “I think it’s wicked! It’s just crazy!”

“Speaking of relationships…” said Eliza, glancing around hesitantly, “Lexi and I are over. She and I just disagree on too many levels. I can’t date someone so prejudiced and ignorant…”

Roger cleared his throat and laced his fingers together, clearly bracing himself for another spat between Jamie and Eliza, but surprisingly, Jamie did not speak. She simply smiled and patted Eliza on the hand sympathetically.

“How was  _ your _ holiday, Jamie?” said Eliza, also looking mildly surprised by Jamie’s use of restraint.

“It was pretty great!” said Jamie cheerfully, placing her bare feet on the edge of the table in front of her. “We went to O’Connell’s Pub on Christmas Eve for some music sessions – you know how Dad can never miss on an opportunity to play his squeezebox. It was great fun! And Uncle Micky came around for New Years and brought his Uillean pipes. The rest of the time it was just long walks, relaxing, and, of course, listening to the latest small-town gossip. We all think Mrs. Bannerman is having an affair with her new neighbor from Kilarney. The usual stuff.”

“Roger got to know  _ Frida _ over the holiday,” said Andrea snidely, turning her attention to Roger, who was a little more quiet than usual. He must have sensed this coming. “Isn’t that right, Roger?”

“Oh! Did you go visit Andrea?” said Eliza.

“Oh no, he didn’t,” said Andrea, slyly.

“I’ve met Frida! She’s great!” said Jamie, grinning, “How then did you get to know her, Roger?”

Roger stared at Andrea with a mix of disdain and amusement as he tapped a finger against his temple while resting his head on a fist. With a sigh, he uncrossed his legs, sat up, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and looked around at the girls.

“ _ Frida _ , apparently, took issue with the book that I sent Andrea as a Christmas present. The gift was both informative and meant to be in good humor,” said Roger with the usual formality that he maintained when he was under pressure. “She then decided that she was obligated to send me a letter – laden with insults I may add – informing me that I’m an arrogant ass, undeserving of Andrea’s friendship. I then wrote her back, rather politely considering the harshness of her letter, apologizing and letting her know that she need not interfere with matters between Andrea and myself hereafter.”

“ _ Woah,  _ woah, there Roger…” said Jamie, snickering and exchanging a meaningful glance with Andrea and Eliza in turn. “What’s got you talking so posh, eh? I know why – it’s ‘cause Frida  _ actually _ managed to get under that  _ thick _ hide of yours! Isn’t it? This is just  _ too _ amusing – I’m going to have to savor this moment…”

Jamie closed her eyes blissfully, tilted back her head, and extended her arms dramatically as if she were sunbathing.

“Don’t be absurd!” said Roger hotly, “Andrea isn’t  _ really _ offended, so there was truly no necessity to – ”

“Did ya’ hear  _ that _ ladies?” laughed Jamie, pointing at Roger’s affronted expression. “He says, ‘ _ Don’t be absurd, Jamie! Don’t be  _ absurd,’ – he’s completely bothered!”

“I am certainly not  _ bothered _ !” said Roger, sitting up straight and attempting – and failing – to appear aloof. “Andrea, you weren’t offended by the book?  _ Were _ you?”

“I mean…” said Andrea pointedly. She  _ had _ , in fact been relatively irritated by his joke, but the repercussions between Frida and him had been amusing enough to compensate for any hit to her pride that he might have otherwise achieved. “I did find it pretty presumptuous, but I wasn’t  _ angry _ . I figured you were just trying to pick a fight with me, I was going to say – ”

“You  _ see _ ?” Roger interrupted, looking between Jamie and Eliza, who both appeared fairly dubious and were holding back giggles at Roger’s desperation. “No harm done! And her friend has the nerve to insult my  _ honor _ without ever having met me before! All of her letters have been coarse and full of unwarranted slights! I’m not  _ bothered  _ by them, do not misunderstand, but I must defend my  _ honor _ . I would think even you all could understand that!”

“What do you  _ mean  _ by ‘even you all,’ eh?” said Jamie, narrowing her eyes menacingly, but Eliza held up a hand to stop Jamie.

“Hold  _ on _ – did you say ‘ _ all _ of her  _ letters _ ’?” asked Eliza with astonishment.

“That he did!” said Jamie deviously, and seemed to be greatly enjoying teaming up on Roger. “He said just that, he did!”

“Roger, are you two  _ still _ bickering via post?” said Andrea, “How many letters has she sent you since she responded to your first owl?”

“A fair few,” said Roger, dismissively yet shifting slightly in his seat. “Though I’m certain now that she will see reason – I don’t anticipate she will write anything more after my most recent correspondence.”

Andrea looked meaningfully at Eliza and Jamie, before raising her eyebrows significantly at Roger and said, “Oh… alright…”

Andrea very much doubted that anything Roger could have said to make Frida ‘see reason’ would pacify her now. Were Frida a witch, Andrea was certain that she would have an arsenal of hexes and jinxes to use for such occasions as this. For the first time in her memory, Andrea was a little grateful that Frida did not go to Hogwarts or Roger would be in deep trouble. Once more, Andrea wondered to herself who was more hard-headed: Roger or Frida. She supposed this would be the ultimate test and that they would all find out soon enough.

The next morning, Andrea finally had a chance to check her Felix Felicis potion before class. It was nearly ready – it had turned crystal clear, and it would soon turn gold, with droplets that danced on its surface, next month when it was finished. Andrea had secretly feared that Eliza would ruin her potion, but either through Professor Snape’s vigil or through her own attentiveness to direction, Eliza had not failed her.

After Potion’s, Andrea headed up to the entrance hall from the dungeons for her Monday free period before lunch, feeling thoroughly grateful for Eliza’s successful efforts. She was wondering how she might thank Eliza properly as she stepped out of the dungeons stairwell, when a loud shout nearly knocked her back down the steps in surprise.

“ANDREA!” bellowed Fred, who was lurking close by with George behind a pillar.

“Merlin’s  _ beard _ , Fred!” said Andrea, catching her breath as the twins snickered smugly to themselves, “ _ Don’t  _ do that!”

George strode over, took her bag onto his shoulder, and slid an arm around her. 

“Hey love,” said George, brightly, “You’ve got a free period, yes? Let’s hang out, shall we?”

“Yeah, you two do that… I’ll be off then – cheers!” said Fred, skipping up the marble steps and sauntering off to undoubtedly get himself into some trouble elsewhere.

“If I remember correctly,” said Andrea, shrewdly, “You _ don’t _ have a free period right now…right?”

“Ah,  _ darling _ , it is  _ I  _ who decides when I’ve got free periods,” said George, winking roguishly, leading her down the first floor corridor.

“So you’re  _ skiving off _ , then?” said Andrea, raising an eyebrow at him. She knew that he enjoyed it when she pretended to disapprove of his behavior.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” said George smiling, leading Andrea into the courtyard and sitting under the still bare pear tree. “You’re a prefect, after all. I wouldn’t want to burden you with any confessions that might compromise your integrity.”

They sat under the black branches on the ground which was covered with a thin layer of last Autumn’s papery leaves. Andrea scooted close to George, behind the trunk of the tree in the corner of the courtyard, so that they were not easily spotted by passerby’s.

“Did you miss me?” said George playfully, as he pulled her sideways onto his lap where she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, actually,” said Andrea, smiling softly as she looked up at his familiar face and passed a hand over his closely shaven cheek. The more time she spent with him, the more she seemed to miss him when they were not together. She had read about lovers getting attached to like this, but she had not felt that way with Oliver. It was odd, especially for Andrea, to feel so dependent on someone else’s company. Odd, but not unpleasant.

They chatted quietly for a while, keeping their voices down so as to not attract anyone’s notice. Being with George was so easy now – it did not drain her to spend hours with him like it did with most other people, regardless of how much she liked them. It was so easy, in fact, that they often found themselves interrupting their own conversations with kisses, before breaking away from one another so that they did not become too heated.

“Mmm…” groaned George, quietly as he pulled slowly away from Andrea’s kiss. “Hey, erm… I’m sort of struggling right now, love…”

“How?” said Andrea, looking up at George, who was staring down at her with hazy eyes. His breathing was rugged and his hands were quite warm, especially considering the chilly breeze, as he took her face in his hands.

“Because of  _ this _ ,” said George with a smirk, shifting slightly on the ground under Andrea so that she was at once aware of something firm and rod-like under her left leg. She was  _ certain _ it was not his wand.

“Ah…” said Andrea with a nervous laugh.

“I don’t know about  _ you, _ ” said George, sliding Andrea onto the ground next to him with an arm still snuggly around her waist, “But I’d really like to figure out a place where we can be alone together again… soon if possible. I’ve got an idea brewing, but I’ve got to work on it a bit to get it to work. If you want too still…?”

George smiled deviously at Andrea, making her insides churn delightfully.

“ _ Mmm-hm _ ,” said Andrea, with a small nod, blushing a little in spite of herself.

“Great,” beamed George, getting to his feet and helping Andrea up. “We’d best get to lunch or I’m going to end up  _ devouring  _ you right here.”

Andrea flushed deeply at this, but George took her by the hand with a naughty smile and broke into a sprint, dragging her along with him. She could not help but laugh along with him all the way to the Great Hall, their voices and feet reverberating across the stone walls, where he finally let go of her hand at the double doors.

“By the way,” said George, stopping before heading to the Gryffindor table where Fred was chatting animatedly with Angelina, “Did you see the Hogsmeade notice they posted this morning?”

“No, I didn’t,” said Andrea.

“Oh, well, they’re having the next trip on Valentine’s Day next month,” said George eagerly, “You wanna go with me, or are you going to make me take old toad-face? You can bet she’s an old maid… Maybe I’ll even get my broom back.”

How ridiculous George could be – always making light of things to make Andrea mildly uncomfortable. It was clear that despite their new relationship, George still greatly enjoyed pestering her.

“Sure…” said Andrea, smiling hesitantly at George’s peevish face.

“Brilliant,” said George, nodding with a wink, before jogging toward Fred with a backwards glance at Andrea as he sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Andrea joined Jamie, Roger, and Eliza at the Ravenclaw table for the first time that day – she had skipped breakfast to make it down to the dungeons early to tend to her potion.

Whole hall seemed to be more talkative than usual, and the Ravenclaw table was no exception; Roger and the girls were talking quickly and seriously when Andrea arrived.

“ _ Finally, _ ” said Eliza, as Andrea took a seat next to Roger, “Did you  _ hear _ about what happened?”

“No…” said Andrea looking around at her friends’ anxious faces.

Roger expertly flicked open his copy of the Daily Prophet with a snap, scanned the cover page, and cleared his throat.

“ ‘ _ The Ministry of Magic,’ ”  _ read Roger, “ _ ‘announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening…’  _ They were all Death Eaters, and as usual they have no idea where they went.”

“Oh…” said Andrea, her mind reeling with shock. When Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban everyone seemed to think it was a miraculous feat, but now  _ ten _ Death Eaters escaped? If her parents needed any further proof that things were about to get much worse for muggle and wizard relations, Andrea might just pitch herself off of the Astronomy tower.

Andrea impatiently hoped that her mother would put aside her hard-headedness and let Andrea know her decision about the tea house and going into hiding soon. For the first time in a while, Andrea felt eager to undergo her first transformation into an animagus. She hoped that she would become a raven, inspired by her Hugin, and she would need to act soon. No one knew it, but Andrea had special plans for her Felix Felicis potion. She would need to wait at least until the potion was finished before attempting the potentially fatal transformation.

McGonagall, herself, had said that Andrea would need a bit of luck to make it through the first transformation unscathed. Andrea was not planning on hoping for luck – she preferred to  _ literally _ make her own. Andrea watched her friends chatting, presumably about the breakout, and wondered what they would think of her plans.

Roger and Eliza would likely worry for her. They might even try and talk her out of it. Andrea was not willing to risk that. Jamie would probably be supportive and have no doubts about Andrea’s ability to make the transformation, but she could not tell Jamie while leaving the others out.

Andrea glanced over at the Gryffindor table behind her and spotted Fred and George mumbling deviously with their heads close together.  _ They _ were secretive and ambitious. George might understand, but then he might want to be with her during the transformation… The first transformation was said to be very painful, and she did not want him to have to witness that. Considering that she was planning on doing the transformation illegally, without Ministry involvement, the less people that knew, the safer everyone was.

* * *

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” shouted a high-pitched voice, as Andrea squinted through bright morning light, and a cacophony of chatter and squawking assaulted her restful slumber. Andrea rubbed her eyes and sat up in her four-poster to find that Jamie had whipped back her bed hangings and thrown little red heart-shaped confetti all over her.

“ _ You’re _ certainly in a good mood this morning,” grumbled Andrea, leaning out of bed to let Hugin out the window and giving him a little scratch as he hopped to the ledge.

January and early February seemed to have dragged by; while her classes were going as well as ever, all of her teachers seemed to be even more tense than last term, if that was possible, which was undoubtedly due to Umbridge’s increasing interference. What was really irritating was that finding time to be close to George was becoming even more difficult, and their secret trips to the courtyard on her Monday break (and whenever they could find time) did nothing to ease the longing between them. If anything they only made it worse.

Today would be the first day that they could truly escape from Filch and Umbridge’s prying eyes, especially as Filch had seemed to have forgotten all about his role in keeping the school clean and preferred to spend his time lurking around corners and springing out at students, trying to catch them doing anything that he might deem as “rule breaking.”

“I most certainly am!” said Jamie exuberantly, beaming at Andrea and watching her slowly wake up fully. “Just feel the  _ air,  _ Andrea! It’s almost like spring out there! Have a whiff!”

A breeze gently swept through the open window. It was warmer than it had been lately and was moist with the slightest hint of sweet grass. They might have an early spring this year after all. It was one of the nicest days since winter had started.

“ _ And _ I’m particularly happy because now that she’s  _ single _ again,” said Jamie, bumping Eliza playfully with her shoulder, causing Eliza to blush and tuck her short hair behind her ear and push up her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ve finally got my  _ Eliza _ back and I don’t have to spend Valentine's Day alone!  _ And _ there’s Hogsmeade!”

Jamie seemed to have forgotten about Andrea’s unspoken rule that no one should bother talking to her until she had been awake for at least an hour, but her ecstatic mood was contagious. Holly and Kate didn’t seem to think so. Holly’s drapes snapped open and she slumped out of bed, Kate joining her moments afterward, and they both silently sulked out of the dormitory towards the bathroom, shooting Jamie a particularly salty look.

Jamie smiled at the pair of them, but stuck her tongue out childishly at them as the door shut behind them.

“They’re always so sulky and cranky!” said Jamie derisively, “They didn’t used to be that bad! At least, Kate was nicer up until about a year ago. I’m pretty sure it’s because Holly comes from some posh family and they both think they’re better than us now or something.”

Andrea got dressed, putting on her favorite perfume, her lapis lazuli earrings that she had worn the first time she kissed George, and the bangles he had gotten for her. She did not love Valentine’s Day as a rule, but she appreciated the effort George had been going to lately to make her feel special, and he seemed excited about it, so she wanted to make an effort as well.

Jamie hummed a little reel to herself as she inserted earrings that had bobbing, rotating hearts dangling off of fine golden chains, into her pierced lobes.

“Ready, set, let’s  _ go _ !” said Jamie playfully, yanking Andrea and Eliza by an arm to the door as soon as they both appeared ready.

“Don’t you want to wait for Roger?” asked Eliza, looking back over her shoulder as Jamie whisked them through and out of Ravenclaw Tower.

“Nah, he’ll ruin my mood,” said Jamie simply, “Plus he’s got a date this morning with that blonde Hufflepuff girl he’s had trailing after him lately.” 

A few minutes later, they entered the Great Hall and helped themselves to some hot breakfast. It was only about eight thirty and most of the school were still in their common rooms, so they had most of the table to themselves. Andrea helped herself to some eggs benedict and splashed some cream into her tea.

“Have you and George got anything  _ special _ planned today, Andrea?” said Eliza slyly, exchanging a look with Jamie which told Andrea that they had been discussing the matter earlier. 

“I’m not sure,” said Andrea, pretending not to notice the girls’ exchange. “He’s oddly enthusiastic about all of this. I didn’t think he’d be very interested in Valentine’s Day. Maybe he’s just glad to have an excuse not to think about missing Gryffindor Quidditch practice this afternoon. They’re playing Hufflepuff in a week.”

“ _ Or _ he’s looking forward to parading you around Hogsmeade on his arm!” said Jamie grinning at Andrea over her goblet.

“As he should,” said Eliza, buttering her scone with meticulous technique next to Andrea. “He couldn’t do better. Andrea’s a  _ catch _ .”

“Indeed,” said a slightly jeering voice behind Andrea and Eliza.

The girls turned around slowly to find George smiling down at them with amusement.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said brightly, surveying Andrea, Eliza, and Jamie – who was giggling shamelessly at Eliza and Andrea’s surprise. “May I sit with you?”

“Of course,” said Andrea quickly, as George sat down and helped himself to some porridge and sausages. She had already finished her meal, so she sat sipping her tea in the awkward silence that Jamie and Eliza were creating with their darting glances.

“ _ So _ ,” said George in a gossipy tone, glancing up from his breakfast at Jamie, “Who’s the lucky lad that’s got you all dressed up so festively?”

“She’s going with me,” answered Eliza, as Jamie’s mouth was stuffed with toast.

“Oh?” said George raising his eyebrows scandalously, with a quick glance at Andrea, “So you two are  _ together, _ then? That’s a nice surprise.”

Eliza sputtered and fanned herself with her hand, trying not to inhale or spit out her coffee while Jamie sent toast crumbs flying from her mouth across the table onto Eliza’s plate of bacon and eggs.

Andrea could not help but grin. Vengeance could be so sweet, and she did not even have to lift a finger for her friends to get a taste of their own medicine.

“No!” said Eliza finally, with tears in her eyes from nearly choking, “Not like  _ that _ ! We’re just hanging out.”

“Yeah,” said Jamie defiantly, “I don’t need an  _ excuse _ to be festive on Valentine’s day!”

“ _ Alright _ , alright,” said George, snickering, “No offense intended, don’t get your knickers in a twist!”

“Good morning, all,” said Roger, taking a seat next to Jamie across the table, pouring himself a tall cup of black coffee. “Has the post arrived yet? Ah, here it is. My timing is impeccable.”

A cloud of owls blew into the Great Hall, most of which were carrying pink or red envelopes, and Roger’s owl swooped down onto the tabletop, nearly knocking over a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

“Easy there Archie,” said Roger, feeding his grey owl an entire sausage link and untying a letter from his ankle, as Archie lurched as he worked on swallowing the link whole.

“Uh oh,” said George with a mischievous sneer, as Roger hastily opened the letter, scanning it with a furrowed brow. “A profession of love from one of your many suitors? ”

Andrea leaned across the table to take a peek at the handwriting – just to confirm her suspicion. Sure enough, the letters were bubbly and neat. Frida’s hand.

“I  _ told _ you that Frida wouldn’t ever give up!” said Andrea, sitting back down.

“Frida?  _ Your _ friend Frida?” said George, raising his eyebrows and looking at Roger with amusement.

“More like a  _ viper _ ,” said Roger, folding up the letter and slipping it into his pocket. “Don’t look at me like that Andrea, if you only  _ knew _ the things she was saying to me, you would probably feel pressured to choose between your friends. I won’t do that to you. Let’s just say that I have no choice but to send her my own strongly-worded reply. This has gone on long enough.”

“ _ I  _ want to read it, Roger!” said Jamie, tugging on his arm imploringly, “Let  _ me _ , please?”

“I wouldn’t mind getting a look at that either,” said George slyly, winking at Andrea quickly. He was goading Roger, and Roger knew it. Roger cleared his throat and glanced around at them all with a distinct air of importance.

“No, sorry Jamie,” said Roger pompously, “I’m afraid it doesn’t concern all parties present here, so I cannot possibly share with you without compromising the letter.”

“Well, love,” said George, pushing his bowl away from him and taking Andrea by the hand, “I’m thinking it’s nearly time to go, don’t you? Would you like to walk with the school or go our  _ special  _ way?”

“It’s so nice out,” said Andrea, looking at the magical ceiling above, depicting the pale-blue sky above. “Let’s just walk down with everyone else.”

“Okay,  _ okay,  _ hold on, _ ”  _ said Roger, scanning George with his piercing, pale-blue eyes. “ _ Special  _ way? What  _ can  _ you be talking about, Weasley? I certainly hope you aren’t insinuating that you’ve got some other  _ illicit  _ path through the Dark Forest, or some other foolish route of the like, that you’ve been dragging Andrea through. I am fully aware of your substandard safety practices.”

“I’m not saying anything of the sort!” said George cheerfully, taking a swig of pumpkin juice and wiping his mouth on his sleeve and pointedly ignoring Roger’s gaze. “And what safety practices? Let’s go, love?”

“Sure,” said Andrea, shrugging at Roger as he stared at her questioningly, “See you all around!”

After saying goodbye to her friends, Andrea and George headed out of the Great Hall to join the queue of students waiting in the entrance hall. Before long, they were striding across the green, dewy grass down to the gates at the edge of the school grounds.

The breeze was fresh and cool, but there was a definite note of warmth which promised that Spring was just around the corner. The bright day, coupled with the fact that it was Valentine’s Day, put the group in a giddy, giggly mood.

“So…” said Andrea teasingly, raising an eyebrow deliberately at George, “Where do you plan on taking me today?  _ Please _ be aware that I have vowed never to set foot into Madame Pudifoot’s, so I’m afraid to say that’s off the table.”

“Well, if it’s alright with you, I thought we could stop for drinks and a bite to eat at Three Broomsticks,” said George, smiling smugly to himself as they trekked down the winding, wooded path. “I have a surprise for you afterwards, if you feel up to it.”

“Oh? What is it?” said Andrea. She could hardly imagine finding anything in Hogsmeade that would surprise her anymore after four years’ worth of excursions.

“Well, what kind of surprise would that be if I told you, eh?” said George, laughing and bumping Andrea with his shoulder playfully.

Andrea walked a while in silence, wondering what George might have had planned for her, before they arrived at the cobblestone entrance to Hogsmeade Village.

“Did Fred end up asking out Angelina like he had planned?” said Andrea, wondering if George might have thought a double date would be an enjoyable surprise. In truth, she did not love the idea of spending Valentine’s Day with both twins, much less to have to face Angelina in that context so soon after… unfortunate events of which she preferred not to think of.

“Yeah, he did!” said George, tracing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand as they walked down the street past a long line of couples that waited outside of Madam Puddifoot’s tea room. The lace doilies and cherubs tended to draw couples in more often on Valentine’s Day than usual. “She’s into it, but they won’t be going public because Angelina is afraid of getting grief from the Quidditch players about being a captain dating one of her underlings – even if he isn’t allowed to play anymore…”

“That’s nice…” said Andrea looking back at Roger getting in the Puddifoot line with his girlfriend, as they approached the doors of the Three Broomsticks, “Are they here?”

“I dunno!” said George thoughtfully, holding open the door for Andrea to enter the warm, crowded pub which was brightly lit with many red candles on each table and on the bar for the holiday. Madame Rosmerta was behind the bar chatting merrily with Hagrid, the enormous, hairy, and lovable gamekeeper, wearing shiny magenta robes. They walked over to a table in a far off corner, and George slid a creaky wooden chair back for Andrea to take a seat. “It’s kind of  _ weird _ to be honest – not knowing where Fred is at all times. But I s’pose it’s for the best in certain cases, isn’t it?”

“Since I didn’t get you anything, and I haven’t got a surprise for you,” said Andrea dramatically, looking up at George’s handsome cheerful face, eager to change the subject, “I’m going to buy you lunch and drinks. What will you have then?”

“What?” laughed George, looking baffled but pleased. “Are you serious? Okay, then, thanks lovely!”

Andrea stared at George in silence, waiting for a response, while he beamed down at her, seeming to have forgotten her inquiry.

“Oh, right!” he said rubbing his hands together, “Well, see if she’s got any meat pies today, will you? And a butterbeer. Wow, I never thought I’d date a girl who took  _ me _ out for lunch! I like it though!”

“Good,” said Andrea feistily, standing up to go order their food. Andrea had only taken several paces away from their table when George called out to her.

“Hey, Andrea!” said George with a mischievous grin, “Make sure you get something substantial for yourself. You’re going to need it.”

Andrea stared at him for a second before shaking her head and continuing to the bar to order. What could George have possibly meant by that? It was sometimes hard for Andrea to understand his sense of humor, but his remark still made Andrea somewhat apprehensive. She really hoped that he did not plan on taking her on an excursion to try and break into the Shrieking Shack. That seemed like something that he might do, and she had learned never to underestimate the craftiness of the Weasley twins.

Lunchtime had just begun, so the pub was especially crowded with students and ordinary wizards alike. After a short wait, Andrea returned to the table with their butterbeers to wait for their food. Andrea nearly sloshed her butterbeers on a short, squat wizard that seemed to appear out of nowhere behind her at the bar.

Finally, she sat down next to George, who was resting his chin on his hands watching her.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a tankard from Andrea and sipping from it. “What did you order?”

“I got potato soup. I don’t love to eat too much when I drink,” said Andrea, taking a gulp of the sweet, warm contents of the tankard. Andrea liked being in pubs, despite their potential for commotion. The wooden surroundings, low light, and the warm atmosphere was comforting and reminded her of home.

“So, tell me,” said George with a crooked grin, over the rumbling chatter of the pub, “Does this meet your expectations for a Valentine’s Day date?”

“Sure,” said Andrea, moving her drink aside as Madame Rosemerta slid their food onto the table and returned to the bar, “I don’t love the holiday, to be honest. It seems kind of silly and…  _ frilly _ to me. I’m glad to have an excuse to spend time with you, though. I don’t have any grand expectations – in fact, I’m just relieved you haven’t done any grand gestures… I have a feeling it would make me a bit uncomfortable.”

“Why?” said George, raising an eyebrow curiously, as he cut into his meat pie, “What’s so bad about a grand gesture? I, myself, am a man of grand gestures! I thought you’d have known that by now, Andrea!”

“I just think that people shouldn’t have to wait until a silly holiday to show appreciation for their loved ones. I don’t mind playing along, but I am not a huge fan of all of the hearts and confetti and such,” said Andrea. She suddenly grew suspicious as she watched him eat his pie in silence for a moment. “Why do you ask? Have you  _ done _ something?”

“I quite agree,” said George, glancing slyly up at Andrea from his half-devoured meat pie. “People shouldn’t have to wait for a holiday for that, but it does provide a convenient opportunity for people to try new things – like that homely little toadstool of a lad, Avery! He would never have dared to ask out Lindsey Cooley on an ordinary day, but today presented just the excuse he needed. It’s true, I reckon it stung a bit when she  _ did _ reject the poor kid (rather harshly too), but at least he tried!”

“Hm,” said Andrea, finishing the last of her creamy potato soup. He had completely evaded her questions. Andrea decided not to push the matter, as George might have felt put off by her disdain at Valentinus’s Day and things like having heart confetti tossed on her face first thing in the morning.

After they finished their lunches and butterbeers, Andrea and George crammed themselves into the packed Honeydukes sweets shop. George bought Andrea her favorite sweet: peppermint toads. George bought himself a pumpkin-flavored ice cream with bat-shaped chocolate chips and they pushed out of the shop to munch on their sweets outside.

“Let’s walk?” said Andrea, lacing her fingers through George’s. His hand was big and warm in hers, and it was a wonderful day to spend outside. As long as one had a thick cloak, it was the perfect temperature, and the occasional bursts of wind would blow about the sweet and savory scents from kitchens and the poignant aroma of incense, perfumes, candles, and bath oils from a nearby beauty shop.

They wandered down to the town square and strolled around the perimeter, watching the crowds of witches and wizards bustling about. Having finished his desert, George came to a stop outside an apothecary shop, a ways from the door. He leaned his back against the stone wall and pulled Andrea against him, smiling warmly.

“I’m feeling the need for a hug,” said George playfully, wrapping Andrea’s arms firmly around his waist. “I reckon we’re far enough away from the more popular shops to get away with that, don’t you?”

Andrea sighed, closing her eyes and letting her head fall to rest on George’s chest, breathing in his woody scent. She felt his hand delicately stroking her waves while the other held her tightly. Andrea had missed these moments. They were becoming harder to come by, as Umbridge made most of the teachers on edge, and very minimal public displays of affection were tolerated lately.

On this side of Hogsmeade, it really did appear that there were less people from Hogwarts. Andrea made up her mind. She released her arms from around George’s waist, and slid them up and around the back of his neck. Andrea looked up at George, who was smiling softly yet somehow still mischievously. Raising herself up on the balls of her feet, Andrea pressed her lips over his smile.

George kissed her back fervently, pressing her body even more firmly against his. The wind swept her hair around them as they kissed, occasionally forcing them to pause to move her hair out of the way. As she kissed George with increasing vigor, Andrea’s head began to swim. She began to notice that she felt considerably less chilly in spite of the brisk wind.

“Weasley! Clearwater!” snapped a familiar, stony voice.

Andrea jumped backwards to see Professor Snape standing several yards away, outside of the apothecary with a couple of bags in his arms, and was glowering at the pair of them with distinct disapproval.

“Find yourselves  _ somewhere _ else to be if you please… Not everyone wants to be involved in your  _ frivolities _ ,” said Snape after several awkward moments of silence. He then turned on his heel and swept off down the street without a backwards glance.

After Snape was well out of earshot, George muttered, “I cannot  _ believe _ he didn’t give us detention! He must really fancy you, Andrea.  _ What _ ? He’s only, what – eighteen years older than you? That’s not so bad.”

“ _ Yes _ , it is,” said Andrea, who suspected that Snape might indeed be somewhat charmed by her – and he was fairly young, but she doubted very much that he had any intentions towards a student –  _ ever _ . He was a professional, whether George liked to admit it or not.

“Well, anyway,” said George, chuckling, taking Andrea by the hand, and walking slowly down the lane, “His timing wasn’t bad. I think it’s a good time for me to present you with my surprise. Come – this way!”

Andrea followed George’s lead all the way to the edge of the town, where they slowed down in front of a shabby tavern with the name, “Hog’s Head,” and a depiction of the head of a large boar on a platter displayed on a hanging placard.

“Oh!” said Andrea, remembering what George had told her about his extra merchandise for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. “Are you going to show me the Wheezes products you’ve been storing here?”

“Sort of,” said George, leading the way through the worn door and breaking off to the right once inside, leading Andrea up some dark, creaking stairs before Andrea had even a chance to see inside the pub. “We’ve cleared out about seventy percent of our merchandise already and moved it to Diagon Alley. The rest we are going to try and sell before the year is up. This way – it’s all the way at the top.”

Once at the top of the dank, musty stairwell, George reached up and pulled a cord that brought down a trap door with a folding ladder which, presumably, led to the attic.

“After you,” said George, stepping back for Andrea to step onto the rickety ladder and to slowly climb through the hole in the ceiling.

Andrea pushed herself up into the room above, got up from her knees, and looked around. The space was relatively large; the far end of the attic had about thirty large boxes filled to the brim with colorfully wrapped products. The whole space could probably fit fifteen people comfortably, and there were two windows, one on the East wall and one on the West. In the middle of the room, there was a thick, dark-grey, queen-size feather duvet with two pillows set at the end like a bed. The whole room smelled vaguely of taffy and explosives.

“What d’ya think?” said George, behind her, shutting the attic door after them.

“It’s a lot of space! Have you been  _ sleeping _ in here?” said Andrea, pointing at the duvet.

“No,” laughed George, flumping down on the duvet and patting a spot next to him for Andrea to follow. “This place was so full before that you could hardly move about. Remember when I said I’d like it if we had a place where we could spend time together alone? Well, I figured here would do! Do you like it okay?”

Andrea stretched out on the soft fluffy duvet. It was so plump that she could hardly feel the wood floor beneath her. She turned on her belly and inhaled. It smelled clean, with the slightest hint of violet.

“It’s great,” said Andrea, rolling on her side to face George, who had just finished plumping her pillow and slid it under her head. “And not far from food… Does the landlord care that you sneak over here often? You don’t think he’d say something to someone?”

“ _ Him _ ? Nah,” said George scooting close to Andrea, so their faces were only inches apart. “He doesn’t care about much – as long as he gets paid, I doubt that he’d mind it if I opened a butcher shop up here.”

Andrea scooted over closer to George so that she could hold him, lying her head on his arm. George was staring at Andrea, his eyes wandering her face. He proceeded to comb her hair out of her face with his fingers. He passed his hand from her cheek, to her shoulder, to her waist, then let it rest on her hips.

“So,  _ Clearwater _ ,” said George with a low chuckle, “Was this ‘grand gesture’ too  _ grand _ for you after all? Or perhaps not grand enough?”

“Well, there was no heart confetti,” said Andrea seriously, “So you got that part right. Speaking seriously, I really like it. It’s quite comfortable, and it’s nice to be away from prying eyes.”

“That it  _ is _ ,” said George smugly, kissing her softly on her neck. Andrea closed her eyes and soaked up his touch and scent, letting him move his lips up and down her neck to her jaw and back, then to finally find her lips.

As their kiss became increasingly feverish, Andrea felt George move from her side to hover over her, holding himself above her with his strong arms while his torso rested on hers. His legs lied snuggly between hers, her robes riding up to her knees.

Andrea reached down to the hem of her robes, pulling them up over her head and tossed them away. George followed suit, falling back onto his knees and taking his robes off. Andrea stole a glance at his bare form as she unhooked her bra. The afternoon sun shone through the window behind George, crowning him with golden rays as he gazed down from what seemed to be far above her.

George slowly bent down over her, kissing her teasingly, pulling away every few moments and smiling playfully. He laced his fingers through Andrea’s, pulling her arms above her head and holding them there firmly as his mouth wandered to her breasts, gently biting each of her nipples.

It was a little painful, but the bites caused shot waves that sent Andrea’s head reeling, unable to move under George’s grip. She moaned longingly, rocking her head side to side as she succumbed to George’s hold.

“You okay?” muttered George, looking up at Andrea from her chest, “Am I hurting you?”

“No, it’s  _ good _ …” sighed Andrea, but George loosened his hold on her wrists, letting his hands slide down her arms to her waist and passing them back and forth along her silky skin. Andrea’s hips swayed with anticipation.

He suddenly sat up straight, knees still in between her legs, and reached down to gently tug off Andrea’s black knickers. Andrea kept her knees tucked together modestly, once he had thrown the knickers to the side, but George placed each hand on one of her knees and gently pushed them apart.

His warm hand slid down her inner thigh, and began gently massaging her. His touch stirred her, but Andrea was feeling impatient. It had been about two months since their last encounter, and she had been thinking of this moment for too long.

“George,” groaned Andrea, grasping his forearm, “  _ Please,  _ you can go ahead and do it.”

“Oh, not yet love,” said George with a wicked grin, “Patience…”

He leaned down kissing her neck. Andrea had not expected him to deny her. A fresh wave of lust washed over her, and she groped down, searching for his hips with her hands and trying to push him closer. George resisted, chuckled deeply, and kissed her hard.

Andrea kissed him back desperately. She rocked her hips back and forth, making it difficult for George to touch her properly. George stopped touching her momentarily, before plunging two fingers into her. Andrea gasped sharply.

Her head buzzed. She felt her cheeks and ears burning.

“George,  _ please… _ ” moaned Andrea. She felt as though her head might explode.

George continued to slowly slide his fingers in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. Andrea could hardly think anymore, her body twitched and rocked involuntarily.

“Is this what you want?” said George, reaching down and pressing the tip of his manhood against Andrea, but not penetrating her.

“ _ Mmm _ …” moaned Andrea in answer, scooting downwards in hopes of coaxing him inside.

“Yeah?” said George playfully, tapping it firmly between her legs.

Andrea’s eyes shot open, and she glared furiously at George’s impish smile. How could he hold out on her like this? Did he not want her so badly after all of their secret trips to the courtyard?

“ _ Really _ ?” growled Andrea.

“Okay, have it your way,” said George, suddenly serious. He grabbed her by a thigh, rolled her over, belly down, then pulled her by the hips to her hands and knees in one fluid movement.

He gripped her hard, then without warning or hesitation plunged himself into her and pumped full force at such a pace that it took Andrea’s breath away. Andrea heard herself moaning as George maintained an extreme intensity. She arched her back, relishing the powerful sensations which surged through her.

She felt George firmly grab a handful of hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her head back. Andrea let a cry escape as her pleasure peaked. Her nerves seemed to be firing off in her head like George’s fireworks. 

As Andrea slowly came to her senses, she noticed that George had slowed down, gently pulled out of her, and collapsed onto the blanket next to her, panting and grinning handsomely with closed eyes.

Andrea let herself fall onto her belly next to him, breathing in slowly and deeply, and enjoyed the waves of pleasure that still were crashing over her.

George rolled to his side and gently stroked Andrea’s back, causing goosebumps to ripple across her skin.

“Well?” said George quietly after a couple of minutes, “What did you think? Was that okay for you?”

“ _ Where _ ,” said Andrea, looking intently into George’s dark eyes, “Did you  _ learn _ that? I thought you were supposed to be a  _ virgin _ ! I’m having a really hard time believing that right now…”

“Hey,” said George laughing and looking rather pleased with himself, “Being a virgin is no excuse for poor technique! If you must know, I asked my brother Bill for advice, and he sent me a book on being good in the sack. Don’t laugh! If I’m going to do something I prefer to be at least decent at it!”

“Hm,” said Andrea, smiling as she scooted under the duvet for warmth, “I’d like to take a look at this book… I’d like to see what it’s got to say.”

“Well,” said George, laughing nervously and running a hand through his hair, “It’s not exactly made for ladies… It’s more of a book for blokes, but I guess you can if you want… It talks a lot about  _ foreplay _ . Apparently it makes a pretty big difference to most women. Would you agree?”

Andrea cuddled up to George under the blankets, smiling to herself and feeling quite satisfied. Not only was it adorable that George was studying how to please her, but the studying had certainly paid off.

“Yes,” said Andrea, resting her head onto George’s bare chest and closing her eyes restfully. “I completely agree… It was lovely. Can I nap on you for a little? It’s so comfy here.”

“Of course, love,” said George, gently scratching Andrea’s head, causing her to slowly drift off, ignoring the golden light shining through her eyelids.

“Don’t let me sleep for long,” yawned Andrea, catching herself just as she felt herself losing consciousness, “We shouldn’t miss the group heading back…”

“Leave it to me,” said George with a smile in his voice, pulling one of her arms tightly around him, “Maybe when you wake up, there will be time for me to show you some more things that I learned…”

Andrea smiled sleepily, then drifted off into the soundest sleep that she remembered having in a long while.


	15. Dumbledore's Downfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: Nov 29, 2020

"Dear lord… someone  _ help _ him,” said Jamie, peeking out from behind her fingers at Ronald Weasley, who had already let Hufflepuff score twelve goals without so much as one save. By the time poor Angelina had received a Bludger bat to the mouth, the whole Gryffindor team had descended into disarray.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t normally mind seeing Gryffindor lose…but this is just  _ sad, _ ” said Roger, shaking his head as the Quaffle zoomed from between Ronald’s legs into the goal hoop. It was only about fifteen minutes into the game, and Gryffindor was losing at record speed.

“I feel so bad for  _ him _ ,” said Eliza, releasing her arm from Jamie’s to point at Ron, who had turned a nasty shade of green and looked like he was on the verge of tears, as yet another goal soared over his head and through the middle hoop.

Eliza and Jamie had stopped fighting, for the most part, and were once again inseparable, much to Andrea’s and Roger’s relief.

“George is  _ not _ going to be happy,” said Andrea, as a fifteenth goal for Hufflepuff was made. “He feels they might have had a fighting chance if he, Fred, and Potter hadn’t been kicked off of the team.”

“Hm, I doubt it,” said Roger shortly. Roger was still sour about Gryffindor winning the House Cup the year before last. “Potter is pretty good and the twins are fair Beaters, but I  _ seriously  _ doubt they could do much to remedy this Weasley’s ineptitude. He’s making my job fairly easy this year…”

Suddenly with a roar of cheers from the Hufflepuff side of the stadium, it was all over – Ginny had caught the snitch, but it had not been enough to secure a win for Gryffindor. The score stood at two-hundred and forty to two-hundred and thirty.

“Looks like Gryffindor isn’t out yet after all,” said Roger looking slightly disappointed, as they walked back towards the castle after the game. “I hadn’t expected them to score so highly. I’m not  _ too _ worried though… as long as Cho can keep Ginny off of the snitch for long enough, we should have an easy win.”

Andrea had to agree, but it did not really seem like a fair fight. Andrea, however, had more important things to focus on than Quidditch at the moment… Her Felix Felicis potion would be done by tomorrow afternoon, which meant she would need to begin getting serious about planning for her first transformation.

Furthermore, Andrea planned on putting aside several hours every night studying for her N.E.W.T.’s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test) which would determine her eligibility for career applications in the future.

Andrea looked around for George in the bustling crowd filing into the entrance hall before giving up and heading up the path that led to Ravenclaw Tower.

“He’s probably with his siblings, Andrea,” said Eliza wisely, who had noticed Andrea’s distraction. “They probably aren’t in the best mood I’d imagine.”

Just as Andrea made to turn away from the entrance hall, she caught the eye of Professor Snape. He glanced around briefly, as if he were mildly uncomfortable, then beckoned for her to join him by the doorway that led down to the dungeons.

“I’ll meet you all in the common room…” said Andrea, before trotting down the marble steps towards Snape. She was fairly certain that he wanted to speak with her about her potion, but she could not help feeling a little nervous that he might mention the encounter with George that he had most unfortunately witnessed.

“If you have a moment, Ms. Clearwater,” said Professor Snape coolly.

“Yes, sir. I do,” said Andrea, looking straight into his black, beady eyes as innocently as she could, praying that he had forgotten that afternoon in Hogsmeade.

“Very well. Follow me, if you please,” said Snape, turning his back to her and leading the way down into the dungeons.

Andrea followed him all the way to the student potion storage room where her cauldron of Felix Felicis brewed. He unlocked the dark, heavy door and moved back for Andrea to enter.

She made for the back of the room where her and her classmates’ cauldrons bubbled away. Andrea looked down and observed the five cauldrons that were lined up on the shelf before her.

The left-most potion was a deep orange and had a pungent odor that reminded Andrea of a cross between black pepper and sour milk. The second was clear and scentless, just as Andrea’s had been a month before. The third potion was acid green and had viscous bubbles which burst every few seconds with a sizzling sound. The fourth looked like bog mud.

Andrea, holding her breath, finally dared to look at her own potion. It was a brilliant golden hue, with droplets that jumped around the surface like small fish. It was perfect.

“I thought it wasn’t going to be ready until tomorrow afternoon,” said Andrea, turning to look at Snape who stood a few feet back, supervising.

“There is typically a twenty four hour window in which a potion may be considered ready… after that it will be overdone and useless,” said Snape smugly. “As you can see, Ms. Clearwater, only your potion was brewed successfully. One other came close, but the rest were clearly prepared carelessly…and close isn’t good enough I’m afraid…

“I have brought you here tonight so that you may collect your potion unobserved by your classmates… It would be most  _ unwise _ to inform others of your possession of this potion,” said Snape forebodingly, as he examined the mud-looking potion disdainfully. “ _ Particularly _ , in the quantity that you possess. I have already extracted a vial from each of the potions for grading purposes.

“You may now empty your potion into these,” said Snape, conjuring up several empty glass jars and directing them onto the shelf beside Andrea. “Might I suggest that you find somewhere private to stow them while you remain at Hogwarts…

“Quickly and carefully, Clearwater,” said Snape as he stepped out of the room into the corridor, “You do  _ not  _ want to spill your neighbor’s potion. It very well might sear a hole through the floor.”

“Ooo!” said Jamie, the next morning over her porridge, after Andrea told her friends about her success with her potion. “I always knew you were good, Andrea, but I didn’t know you were  _ that _ good!”

“What are you going to use it for? Did you have an  _ entire _ cauldron of it?” asked Eliza excitedly.

“I actually  _ do _ ,” said Andrea, evading Eliza’s first question. “But I’m not really supposed to talk about it or everyone’s going to be asking for some…”

“Well, Andrea,” said Roger smiling smugly, “A small jar for each of us  _ would  _ make an excellent end-of-Hogwarts-years present for us all, don’t you agree?”

Eliza and Jamie stared on with Roger expectantly at Andrea, but before Andrea could think up a good excuse to evade promising her potion to others, the Great Hall was flooded with owls that swooped in to deliver the morning post.

As Roger snatched up his copy of the Daily Prophet, a small commotion of chatter had erupted farther along the table surrounding Luna Lovegood.

“What’s all this then?” said Roger importantly, pushing his chest forward slightly, as if to remind everyone that he was a prefect, and leaning over to get a look at what Cho and Luna were holding.

“Luna’s dad published Harry’s article,” said Cho excitedly, “He writes the  _ Quibbler _ , don’t you know?”

There was probably no one in Ravenclaw that  _ didn’t  _ know – Luna made sure of that.

“Alright then,” said Roger extending a hand, “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

When Roger flipped open the magazine, Andrea got a look at the front page and nearly choked on her tea. There was a moving photograph of Harry Potter, grinning nervously below red lettering which read “Harry Potter Speaks Out at Last: The Truth About He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Night I Saw Him Return,” by Rita Skeeter.

Andrea could not believe it. She had not heard a whisper in the Daily Prophet about the details of Potter's story (other than the prophet calling him deluded and disturbed), and there it was in  _ full _ in Luna’s magazine.

Luna passed out several extra copies to her neighbors, and Andrea and her friends busily read over the article.

“Wow…” said Jamie after they had all finished, “That honestly… well, you all know I had  _ some _ doubts about Potter’s story before, but that was just  _ too  _ detailed not to be true. It’s scary…”

Jamie shuddered and exchanged an anxious glance with Eliza.

“Well?” said Andrea, looking at Roger, who had often professed strong doubts about Potter’s claims about You-Know-Who’s return and Cedric’s death. “Do you buy it  _ now? _ ”

Roger shifted his papers in front of him, frowning at them.

“I think I do,” he said shortly after a moment. “I don’t much like it, and I am particularly disturbed that the Ministry would hush this story up… I’ve always relied on the Daily Prophet, so now I’m at a loss… I certainly had my  _ doubts _ about that  _ Quibbler _ rubbish before now, but Rita Skeeter  _ is _ a reputable name.”

“Send a copy to your mum, Andrea,” said Eliza, pushing over the copy that Luna had given her. “I think that this just might be what she needs to make her listen to you about taking your dad out of town for a while. Hugin can take it to her for you; I saw him eyeing Umbridge from a window on the third floor corridor just minutes ago.”

“No, Hugin doesn’t really like doing deliveries,” said Andrea, “He  _ can _ do it, I suppose, but he’s only done very short distances and he gets cranky if I ask him to. I don’t think he wants to be confused as an owl. He’s quite prideful, really. I’ll just borrow one of the school owls.”

As it happened, Umbridge had banned the  _ Quibbler _ by lunchtime, and there were already notices posted all over the school stating that any student in possession of the magazine faced immediate expulsion. Andrea thought this severe, and she was sure not to be seen with her copy out before mailing it to her parents.

Fred and George, however, as well as the rest of the school, seemed to find the whole ordeal quite amusing.

“Heya lovely,” said George with an evil chuckle, one afternoon in Herbology, as they prepared to prune venomous tentacula plants for the day’s lesson. “Look here what  _ we’ve _ done.”

Under the table, George passed her something which turned out to be the torn-off cover of the  _ Quibbler _ . Potter’s head had been substantially enlarged, and as she made eye contact with the photo of Potter, the picture shouted, “The ministry are morons! Eat dung, Umbridge!”

Andrea hastily stuffed the magazine back into George’s outstretched hand under the table, as everyone in her class stared around in search of the source of the noise.

“ _ George _ ,” hissed Andrea quietly, as he and Fred shared a hearty laugh, “Do you both  _ want _ to be expelled?”

“Honestly?” said Fred in a low voice, giving Andrea and Angelina a nod, “You two are the only thing really  _ worth _ staying here for at this point. If we get expelled, so be it! We can always see each other outside of school, no?”

“You really should at least  _ try _ and stay to pass your N.E.W.T’s,” said Angelina, staring at Fred with a rather sour expression.

“We don’t  _ need _ to!” said Fred, waving his clippers in the air in exasperation. “Don’t you  _ see _ ? We’re selling more Skiving Snackboxes than ever, and our mail order keeps us so busy that it’s a wonder we’ve got time for anything else. We have no time nor  _ need _ to bother putting an effort into any test!”

Andrea shot a glance at George, who shrugged and nodded in agreement.   
“Well put, Freddie,” said George, “Those tests are made so that people can apply to work places, but we don’t _have_ to. We’re _entrepreneurs_. Really, you don’t even need to Andrea, considering you’ve got your family business.”

“Maybe  _ not, _ ” said Andrea, clipping a dry, crispy root off of her plant. “But at least if I take them I know I have the  _ option _ to change my career at any point if I want to. Now’s the time to take the test if we’re going to. There’s no sense in not taking it while the information is fresh.”

They worked on in silence for a while, but now and then the words “eat dung” and “Umbridge” could be heard shouted from George’s pocket. Luckily, Professor Sprout pretended to not take any notice and suddenly became quite busy whenever the  _ Quibbler _ Harry decided that it was a good moment to make any obscene declarations.

In spite of how quickly that Andrea had sent her letter and a copy of the  _ Quibbler  _ to her parents,  __ their reply did not arrive until the second Monday of March.

Andrea had not found much time to spend with George lately because she was busily reviewing her research for her first animagus transformation between classes and was studying regularly for her N.E.W.T.’s. To make matters worse, all of her teachers had doubled their homework and quizzes, and pushed them even harder in classes in preparation for their exams, so it was a wonder that Andrea had any time to spare at all.

She was just about to meet George in the courtyard on her Monday break after Potions, when Roger flagged her down in the entrance hall.

“Hey Andrea,” said Roger, running up to her, “You missed your owl at breakfast – here.”

He handed her an envelope with her name written on it in her mother’s handwriting. She hurriedly opened it and read it aloud for Roger’s benefit.

“It says, ‘Alright, Andrea. You win. We’ll make arrangements when you get home after you are done at Hogwarts. Love Mum.’ Short letter… She’s annoyed I expect,” said Andrea, feeling a little lighter knowing that her dad would be in a safer place soon. “That’s alright though. She knows that I’m right, at least.”

She knew her mum well enough to know that she would not discuss the matter any further. Radhika did not love being proven wrong, and Andrea was sure that admitting as much to Andrea was extremely difficult for her.

“Oh, yes,” said Roger, fidgeting on the spot, “That’s quite a relief for you I’m sure. I’ve got to run though, see you soon.”

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” said Andrea, calling after him as he rushed away. She had expected that Roger would have wanted to chat a little more about her mum’s note.

“To the toilet I expect,” said a familiar voice from behind her.

Andrea smiled and slowly turned around to find George sauntering over to her from outside. He promptly wrapped his arms around her and swung her around in a circle. Andrea could not help but laugh, but she pulled away when her feet touched the floor in case Umbridge was around.

“And what makes you say  _ that _ ?” said Andrea, laughing and looking up to bat her lashes at George.

“Didn’t you  _ see _ the way he was strutting around with a wee bit of a wiggle?” said George with mischievous delight, “He was trying to keep his ass cheeks clenched. Mark my words, he’s got the  _ runs _ – I’m sure of it.”

Andrea laughed as they made their way up to the courtyard. Once arriving, however, it promptly started to rain, so they sat down on a nearby bench that looked out onto the courtyard instead.

“Well, that  _ bites, _ ” said George leaning back against the wall as they sat there. “We’ll have to take another trip to our little hideaway soon, wouldn’t ya say? It’s been a while already since we last got up there.”

“Yeah, but I’ve had  _ so _ much homework, George,” said Andrea, not wanting to be blamed for taking her academic responsibilities seriously.

“Of course, I  _ know _ ,” said George, wrapping an arm around her, “I just miss being alone with you. I can’t even  _ kiss _ you anymore now that Umbridge is on high alert.”

“You  _ can _ kiss me, can’t you?” said Andrea, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

“Are you… are you  _ telling _ me to blatantly break the rules, Ms. Prefect?” said George, raising his eyebrows so high that they nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“I’m just saying – there’s no one around,” said Andrea, giving George a significant side-glance, “as long as it’s just one little kiss, no one has to know…”

“Hm,  _ alright _ then,” said George, licking his lips and taking Andrea’s chin in his fingers.

“Just a  _ little  _ one, okay  _ jaanu _ ?” whispered Andrea, looking up at George’s freckled face.

“ _ What _ did you just call me? Jan-what?” said George, smiling curiously.

“ _ Jaanu _ ,” said Andrea, blushing slightly, “It’s a Hindi word… It means…well, let’s just say it’s a term of endearment.”

“I’ll take it, lovely,” said George smugly. Andrea tended to be a little more reserved about being affectionate than George was, and this had been the first time she had used a pet name with anyone.

“Just a little one…” repeated Andrea, as George leaned in, but it did not appear that he had any plans on obeying her.

He cupped her face with a hand and kissed her gently. Andrea had already made up her mind to pull away quickly, but George held her firmly in his hands and kissed her even more deeply. She sighed and gave in, as his tongue slipped fleetingly into her mouth. Andrea let out a small moan and wound her fingers into George’s hair.

“ _ Aha _ !” shouted a gravelly voice, making Andrea and George fly apart and look around frantically.

“ _ You _ … Always causing trouble…” said Filch, his voice trembling with rage and excitement, and was standing only a few paces away, accompanied by his faithful cat, Mrs. Norris.

“Not to worry, Mr. Filch!” said George, brightly, “Andrea here just had some chocolate on her face, and well, you know me! I can’t resist sweets, and so I kinda had to help her clean it off. She didn’t want me to though… Sorry about that Andrea! Something just comes over me when I see chocolate. I feel a bit rabid. Can you relate?”

Filch was trembling more madly than ever, eyes bulging and twitching with fury.

“You think I was born  _ yesterday _ boy!” spat Flitch with a mad smile, sputtering and pointing a shaking finger at George. “I’ve got a mind to give you both detentions!

“Luckily for  _ you _ ,” said Filch wagging a finger in George’s face, “Professor Sprout has a new shipment of dragon dung fertilizer coming in tomorrow, and I expect  _ you _ to shovel it!!

“A bit harsh, don’t you think?” said George, completely unperturbed, “Especially making a  _ lady _ handle something that’s come out of a dragon’s – ”

“ _ Ha! _ ” spat Filch, “You think you have detention  _ together _ ? Think again  _ you _ …

“Ms. Clearwater will spend tomorrow evening dusting  _ every _ portrait in the Grand Staircase to teach her a good lesson…” said Filch without breaking his gaze from George.

Andrea was a little surprised that Filch even knew her name. Even now that he had reason to be angry with her, he hardly paid her any attention; he had a long-standing hatred for the Weasley twins, and he seemed to be relishing dealing out George’s punishment.

“I expect you at six this evening,” said Filch, turning slightly to Andrea before refocusing on his prize catch, jowls quivering. “As for  _ you _ , you will meet me outside Greenhouse Three at four o’clock tomorrow morning!”

“ _ Four _ ?” said George incredulously, scratching his head, “That’s mighty early… Can’t we meet at – ”

“I said  _ four, _ ” said Filch smugly, “Now get lost, the both of you!”

“You’d better hope we don’t get  _ too _ lost, Filch,” jeered George over his shoulder, as they made their way back towards the entrance hall, “We might not find our way  _ back _ for your detentions!”

“ _ Shh _ !” said Andrea, breaking into a run so that Filch could not increase their sentence.

“You aren’t  _ seriously _ planning on showing up to his detention are you?” said George as they headed for the front doors.

“Of  _ course _ I am,” said Andrea, “I’m a  _ prefect _ remember? And I do actually care if I get into trouble. Are you  _ not _ going?”

“Well, if you’re going then I have to also, don’t I?” said George lightly as they sat down under the outcropping of the castle roof, just outside the front doors, to watch the rain come down. “I got you into trouble – I’d feel bad if you had to do your time and I didn’t. Besides, he didn’t say  _ how _ we had to shovel and dust! Once he’s gone we can just use our wands and we’ll be done in no time!”

This was Andrea’s first detention, but she was fairly certain that using magic for Filch’s detention was  _ not  _ what he had in mind.

“It’s alright George, you don’t have to go if you really think you can get away with it,” said Andrea, “but since I’ve got detention tonight, I’d better head to the library now to get some studying done – seeing as I have less time now.”

“No, no,” said George, getting up and helping Andrea to her feet, “I’ll go to his detention, it’s fine. I’m sorry that we soiled your clean record, but you are dating a  _ Weasley _ … Come here, I’m sorry.”

George pulled Andrea into a tight hug. Andrea laid her head on his sturdy chest and breathed in his scent. She closed her eyes, listened to the patter of the rain, and felt the moist Spring air prickle her face.

“I love you,” she said softly, squeezing him a little harder. He made her feel… secure. Cared for.

“ _ Mmm _ ,” hummed George, rubbing Andrea’s back and sighing deeply, “I love you too, darling, but I just hope you still love me after Filch is done with you…”

Later that evening, Andrea arrived at the Great Hall early and practically inhaled some dinner to be on time for Filch’s detention at six o’clock. He was waiting for her at the top of the marble steps with a very long, dingy-looking feather duster.

He shoved it into her hand with a grimace. To her great disappointment, Andrea realized, after dusting about thirteen out of about a three thousand paintings, that Filch had decided to supervise the entire process – likely to ensure that she did not take any short cuts.

About half an hour later, however, Andrea and Filch both jumped as she dusted a portrait of “ Fionán the Flatulent.” A hideous shrieking emanated back from the entrance hall. When the wailing did not cease, Filch shot a look at Andrea with his bulging, bloodshot eyes.

“You… stay here,” said Filch, before scrambling off towards the source of the commotion with Mrs. Norris at his heels.

Andrea listened hard to the wailing but could not make anything out. She was too far away, and she was torn. On the one hand, she could take this opportunity to magic away the dust, floor by floor, before Filch got back. Otherwise, she would be stuck dusting until the wee hours of the morning. On the other hand, it was clear that something very odd was going on, and she really fancied peek.

After about a minute, Andrea the idea of returning to the common room for a relaxing evening of reading and studying outweighed her curiosity. Filch  _ had _ told her to stay there, and he did _ not  _ say she could not use magic…

He certainly would object if he  _ saw _ her take out her wand, but since he was not there, and she was  _ technically _ doing what he wanted her to. He could hardly complain. Especially if she was gone by the time he got back, and he found every picture frame spotless…

She was sure that just about anyone in the entire school would be able to fill her in on what was going on later. Andrea rushed to the end of the corridor, glanced around, and pulled out her wand.

“ _ Tergeo _ ,” she whispered, pointing her wand at the nearest portrait before quickly moving along to the next. It took about three minutes to complete the first floor landing in the Grand Staircase, before she moved onto the second, third, and so on at an equally quick pace, praying that Filch would not show up.

Andrea was just finishing the seventh floor landing when Filch came panting up a set of moving stairs nearby.

“Hey! What are you doing up here?” snapped Filch, wiping a finger across the frame of a portrait of a group of nuns playing bridge. “Did you use… _ magic _ ?”

“Erm… yes?” said Andrea sheepishly, tentatively brushing the end of the feather duster on the facemask of a suit of armor. The suit let out a raspy sneeze, and before Filch could complain about Andrea’s methods, Peeves shot out from the helmet screeching curses at Andrea.

He did a somersault midair, looked down at Andrea and Filch, then blew a fat raspberry at them.

“ _ Peeves _ !” frothed Filch, snatching the duster out of Andrea’s grip and brandishing it back and forth trying to swat Peeves out of the air like he would a bothersome housefly.

“Ack!” said Peeves, pulling a face of false indignation and cackling, “ _ Not _ very nice ickle squibby! Why would he try and  _ hurt _ poor Peevesy?”

With a harsh cackle, Peeves dove down, snatched the duster from Filch, and zoomed down the stairs and out of sight.

“Peeves!!” bellowed Filch, foaming with rage, “I’ll have you now, just you  _ wait _ !”

Seeming to have forgotten about Andrea, Filch dashed down the stairs after Peeves. Andrea could hardly believe that she had gotten away with completing her detention in under an hour…

Andrea wasted no time in running back to Ravenclaw Tower at top speed – no way would she let Filch catch up with her. As far as Andrea was concerned, she had done what he had asked of her – although, he probably would not see it that way.

When Andrea got back into the common room, she was surprised to find that the room was more crowded than she had ever seen it. Andrea pushed through several chattering groups before she found Jamie, Eliza, and Roger, muttering to each other excitedly.

“What happened?” said Andrea, as soon as she sat down beside Eliza. “I was serving my detention and I heard  _ something _ . Did Umbridge use the Cruciatus Curse on someone?”

“Don’t be  _ absurd _ ,” sneered Roger, raising an inquisitorial eyebrow at Andrea. Andrea normally did not make light of such serious matters. She had probably been spending too much time around George…

“She  _ sacked _ Trelawney!” said Jamie dramatically, “In front of  _ everyone _ !”

“She threw her luggage all over the entrance hall…” said Eliza somberly, “It was sad. Dumbledore came to her rescue though… he told Umbridge she couldn’t send her away from the school.”

“You forgot to mention the  _ craziest  _ part!” said Jamie, eyes wide with delight, reveling in the drama.

“He’s hired a  _ centaur  _ to replace her as the Divination professor,” said Roger, shaking his head. “Straight from the Forbidden Forest by the looks of it. I’ve never  _ heard _ of such a thing… I’d wager the classes are likely to be more interesting now at least. Not that they’ll be any more relevant…”

“Don’t you all realize what this means?” said Andrea, who was suddenly starting to feel quite anxious. “Umbridge has only just  _ begun _ ! She’s started dismissing professors. She’s going to replace  _ anyone _ who stands in her way if she can… Flitwick  _ did _ warn us. Not that Trelawney was any good, but Umbridge wanted to make an example of her – as a threat to the other professors, I’d guess.”

Andrea was worried that Umbridge would try and sack McGonagall, as the two of them had butted heads since day one, and Andrea was certain that Umbridge could easily concoct some sort of rubbish rationale for her decision to dismiss her.

However, the next couple of weeks were quite uneventful, except that George had convinced Andrea to make unsanctioned trips to Hogsmeade Saturday mornings to have some time alone together as well as to collect more Skiving Snackboxes to bring back up to the school.

“We’re going to need to start actually producing more at this rate,” said George one morning, handing Andrea a satchel of fainting fancies as he climbed out of the statue of the one-eyed witch behind her.

“All clear,” said Andrea, peeping around the statue down the corridor. They had almost been caught by Filch last week when George had forgotten about his enchanted  _ Quibbler _ -Potter, which shouted “DUNG” right as they were climbing out of the witch’s hump. They had to hide in the tunnel for half an hour just to be sure that he had gone before attempting to come out again.

“So…” said Andrea, stealing a sly peep at George as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, “Your birthday is coming up… Don’t think I’ve forgotten! What could I get for you that you don’t already have?”

“Hm,” said George, smiling thoughtfully, “I think a full day of some nice  _ love making _ would be more than satisfactory.”

“ _ Shh _ !” said Andrea frantically, as they passed a group of first years on the stairs. “Not so  _ loud _ ! And that’s sort of a given… I still want to give you a present, and I think you’ve got more than enough dungbombs to last you for a  _ while _ .”

“If you really want to, go ahead,” said George as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, “but I’m not really needing anything. Really.”

Andrea handed the satchel to George, and gave him a quick kiss goodbye as he dashed into the Gryffindor common room with his renewed stash of merchandise.

When the twin’s birthday came to pass on the first of April, Andrea had already arranged to meet with George that evening by the one-eyed witch passage after George’s Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring club that Potter led.

They had decided that they would risk sneaking down to Hogsmeade that night for a little sleepover, so Andrea slipped out of the Ravenclaw common room with a large bottle of firewhiskey in her bag, as George’s birthday present, and stealthily made her way down to the statue.

To her mild surprise, she had gotten there first, but after a while, Andrea started to worry. Eight-thirty came and went, and there was still no sign of George. Something had gone wrong.

He had never stood her up before, and he certainly would not have done so on a night like tonight. Around nine-thirty, Andrea finally stood up from the floor behind the statue and decided that he was not coming.

What could have happened? Maybe Filch caught him sneaking out at night. Andrea could get away with wandering the corridors a little later than George could, as she was a prefect, but George certainly would not get away with breaking curfew if Filch had anything to do with it.

Andrea turned in for the night, quite disappointed and worried. She ended up using the last of her sleeping draught, hoping that she could get some answers in the morning. She fell asleep the instant that her head hit the pillow.

“Andrea,” said Eliza’s voice somewhere far away. “ _ Andrea _ , wake up, please.”

“Mmm?” said Andrea sleepily, stretching and looking around, a little bewildered. Sleeping draught often left the drinker disoriented upon waking. “George? Is it George?”

“What? No, Andrea, but you have to hear the news…” said Eliza, who Andrea could now see was sitting on her bed next to Jamie, both looking very somber.

“Umbridge is the new  _ headmistress _ ,” said Jamie gravely, “Dumbledore is  _ gone _ … Something happened last night with him and Potter, and now he’s gone…”


	16. The Great Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: Dec 8, 2020

Dumbledore had been driven from Hogwarts. Andrea could hardly believe it. She could remember his suspension when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened a few years ago, but now things were different. He had been the face of Hogwarts, yet the Ministry of Magic had placed an altogether different face (and a far less pleasant one at that) behind the headmaster’s desk. That could only mean one thing: big changes were coming.

What pressed more urgently on Andrea’s mind, as she hurried out of her dormitory with Eliza and Jamie to meet Roger in the common room, was that Harry Potter’s illegal ‘tutoring group’ was the cause of Dumbledore’s expulsion. They had been caught, and she  _ knew _ that George must have been with them.

She had not heard anything about what would happen to the students who were caught. Would they be expelled? Would they be punished directly by the Ministry? Eliza seemed to think the latter; a prospect that seemed, to Andrea, most severe and potentially detrimental for the twins.

“Why should a seventh year  _ ever _ require instruction on defensive magic from a  _ fifth  _ year, much less by Potter. I heard Potter only passes his classes because he copies off of his friends…”

Roger was half-way through a long-winded explanation of why he believed anyone who was above their fourth year and had agreed to take instruction from Potter was a fool, when George came dashing out from a passageway hidden by a tapestry just down the corridor. He spotted Andrea and jogged over to them.

“ _ Speaking _ of which…” sneered Roger, giving George a very prefect-y glare, “I think we’ll leave you  _ to _ it, Andrea. You can fill us in later on the details of how this lot escaped expulsion.”

Andrea stopped a few feet from George, as her friends continued on down the corridor for breakfast. George stared at Andrea, wide-eyed and panting from presumably running there all the way from Gryffindor Tower.

“Andrea, darling,” said George, catching his breath and looking at her as though he thought she might shout at him. “I’m sorry about last night… Something happened – or I would have come. I managed to get away around ten o’clock, but you must have already gone, I feel so – ”

“Don’t worry, I’ve sort of heard about it. I just was worried about you,” said Andrea, crossing the few feet separating them and pulling him into a strong hug. “What happened?”

“It was crazy,” said George, hugging her back then pulled away for a better look at her. “Do you mind waiting a few minutes before we go down to eat? I reckon it’s better not to be overheard about this.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” said Andrea, but suddenly her stomach growled loudly, contradicting her.

“Ah, well…” laughed George, “Let’s take the long way down at least – this way.”

They slipped behind a different tapestry and descended a spiral staircase which Andrea would have never guessed was there. They emerged into a long corridor that was lined with portraits of different species of birds which were making a racket then hushed as they passed each painting.

“So,” started George, as they walked slowly down the corridor hand-in-hand. “So you know that Harry has been teaching everybody some defensive stuff before Umbridge banned student organizations.

“We (Fred and I) joined it to support Harry (and for the sake of rebellion to be honest), but we’ve learned some new stuff too… Anyway, we just had gotten to patronuses when this elf that Harry knows showed up and told us that someone had bloody snitched on us!” said George furiously.

“Who?” asked Andrea.

“That Ravenclaw girl that’s always trailing after Cho Chang… Marcy… Melanie… no Marietta! That’s it!” said George. “So then we had to make a run for it, but they had already found our hideout so it was a mess to get away… We managed to find a broom closet to hide in, but Filch knew we were around somewhere, so Fred and I couldn’t get away for hours.”

“What happened to the people that Umbridge caught?” asked Andrea, as they finally reached the Grand Staircase. “Were they expelled? Does she know you were involved?”

“Oh, she  _ knows _ ,” said George, smirking devilishly to himself. “They found a list with all of our names on it, but Dumbledore took the fall for us all, bless him. We all got off without as much as a detention.”

“Wow,” said Andrea, stepping down the marble staircase into the entrance hall. “You all got  _ very _ lucky. I worry though, now that Umbridge is headmistress and she has a list of names of students who are openly against her, that she is going to make your lives  _ hell _ . Don’t you think so?”

“Oh, I expect you’re right,” said George lightheartedly. “That doesn’t really matter much to Fred and myself, though. In fact, I think it’s  _ she  _ who’s got to watch her back now…

“Which leads me to the other thing I wanted to let you know,” said George, stopping in front of the doors to the Great Hall and facing Andrea. “Fred and I have used restraint here in the past, but now that Dumbledore’s gone and that  _ hag _ is headmistress, we won’t be doing that as much. In fact, as much as I’d love to include you, lovely, I think you should probably steer clear of Fred and I this afternoon.”

“Why?” asked Andrea suspiciously, “What are you going to do?”

“Well, I can’t really talk about it  _ here _ ,” said George, watching a group of Slytherins pass close by as they entered the Great Hall. “But it’s probably better as a surprise anyway. I just don’t want to drag you down with me. I’ve already soiled your squeaky clean,  _ prefect _ record haven’t I?”

“Please,  _ do _ stay out of any real trouble, won’t you?” pleaded Andrea, looking up into George’s bright, amused eyes. “At least don’t get yourself expelled – if you can produce a patronus, I’m sure that you can get at least a couple of N.E.W.T.’s without studying that hard.”

“Hm,” chuckled George, “I don’t know about  _ that _ , Clearwater, but we’ll see how much trouble I can avoid.

“Actually,” said George, stepping slowly away from her through the double doors towards the Gryffindor table and Fred, who was trotting that way to meet him, “ _ You’ll _ see this afternoon!”

George winked and sauntered off to join his brother. The pair made their way back to their table, chatting with their heads close together as they often did when they were brewing up mischief.

Andrea neither saw nor heard any sign of trouble until just before Charm’s class later that afternoon. They had finished learning domestic skills by the end of the first term, and they had now moved onto even more advanced practical charms.

Roger and Andrea had left lunch a half hour early to practice in Flitwick’s classroom before their quiz that afternoon which involved using the Undetectable Extension Charm on a handbag. Andrea held open a handbag close to the floor, as Roger picked up his desk and gingerly aimed one of its legs into the bag’s opening.

All of the sudden, there was a great “ _ BOOM!”  _ that made Roger fall backwards, desk crashing down on top of him, and Andrea fell back from her squat onto her bum as the floor trembled below her.

“What the bloody hell was  _ that _ ?” said Roger, crawling out from under his upturned desk, “Was that an  _ explosion _ ?”

Andrea listened closely. She could distinctly hear screams echoing from the first floor corridor.

“Let’s go!” said Andrea, running to the door with Roger closely on her heels.

_ Screeeeeee!!  _ Andrea pulled her head back in the door just in time, as an enormous pink-and-gold Catherine wheel firework whirred by the classroom, nearly running right into Andrea.

“Fireworks?” said Andrea incredulously, as Roger risked a peek back out into the corridor.

“ _ Dragons _ !!” cried Roger, diving back into the classroom and heaving the door firmly shut behind him. “There are  _ dragons _ out there, Andrea! What  _ is _ this!?”

“They’re not  _ real _ dragons, surely, Roger,” said Andrea, opening the door a crack, “I’m going to have a better look.”

When Andrea opened the door, there were precisely three dragons made of green and gold sparks zooming up and down the corridor in front of her, blasting fire out of their mouths. She peeped her head out far enough so that she could see the farthest corner where the corridor changed direction.

The source of the fireworks was clearly coming from that way, as the stone walls flashed as if they were reflecting a giant, colorful bonfire. If Andrea had any doubts about the source of the disturbance, they were completely diminished as several enchanted, airborne sparklers soared down the corridor before her, spelling out various obscene swearwords.

Andrea could not deny the brilliance. If they were caught, of course, the twins would certainly be expelled from Hogwarts, but it was truly beautiful magic. Andrea had never seen such fireworks –  _ anywhere _ . These were even more impressive than the ones George had given her for Christmas. Andrea was taken aback, watching a beautiful green dragon firework storm by, and gaped in awe of George’s and his brother’s art.

As concerned as Andrea might be for George at times, she started to see his point about him not needing further education to make a career for himself. The twins were truly creative geniuses. The magic that they were performing far surpassed any that they would learn at Hogwarts. Andrea wondered how much of it they had learned from studying and how much was pure experimentation. It honestly was a miracle that the two of them had stayed out of St. Mungo’s so far…

Not far off, Andrea could hear Umbridge’s squeaky voice squalling as she tried to contain the fireworks with magic, but after a loud bang and a scream, it was quite apparent that it was not working. The popping and cracking sounds of the fireworks only increased, and the entire corridor was filled with the pungent scent of gunpowder.

“Your boyfriend’s handywork, I imagine,” said Roger, sounding half impressed and half disapproving. “We’d better get out of here, Andrea. If Umbridge finds us hiding out in here, we’ll be questioned for sure. Or worse – she might want us to help her clean up this mess since we’re prefects.”

Dodging half a dozen rockets and weaving in and out from between countless firecrackers which bounced across the stone floor, Andrea and Roger dashed back down to the Great Hall to wait for the bell for class.

As it turned out, Flitwick ended up postponing their quiz until the next class, as the fireworks were still cruising through the castle at full force, making it especially difficult for anyone, even Flitwick, to concentrate. This effect increased tenfold when thirty or so sparklers whizzed into the classroom, frantically flashing obscenities and orbiting the chalkboard at a dizzying speed.

“Class dismissed,” squeaked Flitwick, who seemed oddly pleased by this disruption. “And Mr. Davies, will you please call the Headmistress to the classroom. I’m sure she’ll want to see to this matter  _ personally. _ ”

Andrea saw no sign of the twins for the rest of the day – other than their fireworks which had substantially replicated and could be seen blazing on well into the night. Andrea guessed that they must be laying low, as she was sure that Filch would surely try to pin it on them, with or without evidence.

From what Andrea could tell, they were skipping the rest of their classes as well, because the only time Andrea had spotted either of them for the rest of the week was once, just after dinner, when she saw them running up the marble stairs (presumably having just come from a food raid down in the kitchens) back to the Gryffindor common room.

By Friday, Andrea was really starting to miss George – acutely so. She had gotten used to having him around all the time, and his absence made it feel like there was something wrong.

“I’m  _ so _ ready for this break,” said Eliza that night at dinner, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes fiercely with her palms. “I’ve been studying so much that I don’t feel like I’ve even had time to  _ breathe  _ properly.”

“Are any of you going home tomorrow for Easter break?” said Jamie, cutting open the steaming apple pie in front of her and licking her lips. “I was thinking about it, but I’d rather just stay. It’d be nice to just have  _ two _ free weeks here. I’ve spaced out all of my studying so that I won’t need to study but one day a week over the break.”

“Nah,” said Roger, eating some vanilla ice cream out of a goblet. “I’m with you, Jamie. I’ll be here as well. I expect your boyfriend is planning on running home for the holiday, Andrea. Am I right? I haven’t seen them out and about since their little prank the other day. I’d bet they want to get their faces out of here as soon as possible. Even  _ I _ have half a mind to deduct some points from Gryffindor for that monumental disturbance.”

“I haven’t seen George,” said Andrea, prodding her pudding with her spoon. “No word either. I haven’t got the faintest idea what they’re up to.”

“Well, at least you’ve been able to get more studying in lately with them not around,” said Eliza, raising an eyebrow at Andrea over her mug of hot cocoa.

“I study plenty,  _ regardless _ ,” snapped Andrea.

Eliza shrugged unconcernedly and sipped her cocoa. Andrea knew she was right of course… That made it all the more irritating. Andrea had made considerable progress in the last week, finalizing her plans for her animagus transformation, setting aside all of the ingredients for the potion needed (well almost all, minus the ones that required prep-work), and re-copying all of the instructions down for later use.

“Ginny’s coming this way, Andrea,” said Roger, looking up from his bowl of ice cream. “She’s certainly impressed me with her Seeker skills since she replaced Potter for Gryffindor… And she’s way nicer to  _ look _ at than Potter.”

Andrea glanced behind her and saw Ginny striding over from down by the double doors.

“Roger, she’s only  _ fourteen _ ,” hissed Jamie, gripping her fork threateningly. “Don’t you go getting any ideas.”

“What?” said Roger, not taking his eyes from Ginny, who was about half way to them. “Andrea was only fifteen when she started dating Oliver. She’s not  _ that  _ young, and I’m single again.”

“Imagine that…” said Eliza venomously, as Ginny strode up to them.

“Hey, Ginny,” said Roger in his smoothest of voices, “How’s it going?”

“Oh. Hi,” said Ginny, barely glancing at Roger before addressing Andrea. “Hey Andrea, George wanted me to tell you that he’s kind of hiding out at the moment, but he’ll be around for the break. Oh, and he wanted me to give you this as well.”

Ginny handed her a tiny folded scrap of parchment. Andrea opened it up to find a hand-drawn smiley face winking at her.

“Thanks, Ginny,” said Andrea, blushing and feeling quite relieved by the little note somehow, in spite of feeling silly for missing him so badly after only four days.

“You guys are pretty cute, actually,” said Ginny, giggling. “I approve.”

“So Ginny,” said Roger, leaning over the table to make himself more visible. “Have you got any  _ plans _ over the holiday?”

“Yes, actually,” said Ginny looking Roger straight in the eye. “We’ll be practicing pretty regularly to make sure we’re in good shape to beat Ravenclaw in the Quidditch finals. You’re captain right? Yeah, I thought you might be, but I couldn’t remember. Anyway, I’m going to finish my pudding. See you around, Andrea!”

Ginny waved good-spiritedly at the others before gliding off.

“ _ Ooo _ !” said Jamie, hardly containing herself with laughter and pointing at Roger’s sour face. “She set  _ you _ straight,  _ didn’t  _ she?”

With classes finally over until after Easter break, Andrea, Eliza, Jamie, and Roger all gathered around the fire that evening to sip on the firewhiskey Andrea had bought for herself when she had ordered George’s.

“Well,” said Jamie with a sigh as she slurped her firewhiskey as though it were as tame as a cup of tea. “I feel like a  _ lot  _ has changed since last term, don’t you? I mean, first we all get wind of Potter’s story about You-Know-Who from the  _ Quibbler _ , then Dumbledore gets sacked, then the school has had a week long infestation of bizarre fireworks!

“And I thought all I’d have to worry about this term was N.E.W.T.’s!” finished Jamie, dramatically kicking her feet up onto Eliza’s lap, who quickly clutched her firewhiskey with both hands and held them up high so as to avoid touching Jamie’s feet.

“I  _ still _ can’t get over that we are supposed to take anything that comes out of the  _ Quibbler _ seriously,” said Roger, shooting a scathing glance across the common room over at Luna, who was painting her toenails with something green, sticky, and that did  _ not  _ look like nail polish. “The  _ Daily Prophet _ has always been a reliable source of information in the past! I’m starting to have serious doubts, once more, about this whole Potter story!

“I’m getting very weary of hearing people bash the Prophet constantly,” said Roger furiously shooting back a large dose of firewhiskey. “Even your snobby little friend, Frida, thinks she’s somehow superior to me just because she’s turning her nose up to the most widespread and reliable source of news!”

There was a silence as Roger waited for their response, but the girls were all looking at each other, exchanging the same meaningful look.

“Roger,” said Andrea suspiciously, “ _ How, _ in the name of Merlin, could you possibly know how Frida feels about it? Have you been writing to her still?”

“ _ She _ ,” said Roger indignantly, sitting up straight, “Doesn’t know when to quit! Every time I refute her outlandish claims against my honor, integrity,  _ and _ character, she writes back with  _ more _ insults! I can’t comprehend it! She’s  _ completely _ mad!”

“Roger…” said Eliza slyly, over her glass of whiskey, “If I didn’t  _ know _ better, I would start to think that you  _ like _ talking with Frida.”

“Yeah!” Jamie chimed in, “If you really wanted to stop hearing from her, you would simply stop returning her letters!”

“If I did that, then she’d have the last word!” said Roger, gesturing dramatically. “She’d  _ win _ ! I won’t let her insult my honor.”

“Yes, yes,” said Andrea, snickering, “We know – you keep blathering on about your honor, but there’s no honor in how long this bickering has been going on. Be the bigger person, Roger.”

“ _ I _ personally think that he’s got a  _ crush _ ,” said Jamie, waggling her eyebrows and grinning at Roger, who looked highly affronted by this statement, turning bright pink around the collar of his robes.

“Oh, that’d be  _ adorably  _ romantic wouldn’t it,” cooed Eliza, resting a hand on Jamie’s and looking quite dreamy. “Roger falling for a girl he’s never seen – a muggle, in fact – all because she’s got a sharper wit than he has!”

“That’s quite  _ enough _ of this preposterous conversation,” grumbled Roger, tugging at his collar with a finger before pouring himself another glass of whiskey. “You girls take things too far. But Jamie has a point – ”

“Oh! You  _ do _ have a crush?” interrupted Jamie, suddenly sitting straight up and clasping her hands together.

“ _ Hush _ ! Of course not!” snapped Roger, frowning at her. “Be patient. I was going to say that I ought to stop replying. There would be more grace in that at this point.”

He pulled a letter out from the pocket of his robes and tossed it into the fire, then stared defiantly at Jamie.

“What will you do with the rest of them, then?” asked Andrea carefully. She had a suspicion that he had been keeping the letters, if Jamie’s guess about his feelings was correct, and she wanted him to admit it. Her trick worked more instantly than she had expected.

“I’ll discard them later,” said Roger shortly, taking a swig from his glass.

“ _ Aha _ !” said Jamie, pointing obnoxiously into Roger’s face. “So you’ve been hoarding those ‘insulting’ letters like a little packrat, have you? I see how much you hated them!”

All three girls descended into a fit of laughter.

“I’ve had enough,” said Roger hotly, standing up and snatching up his book. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

Andrea, Jamie, and Eliza were laughing too hard to wish him good night or to ask him to stay, so Roger stomped off to the boy’s dormitories, shooting them a dirty look over his shoulder.

“He’s so fun to mess with,” said Jamie, wiping tears from her cheeks a minute or two later.

Eliza was flushed and was grinning lazily through her hiccups.

“He makes it so easy,” said Andrea, sliding down onto the floor next to the fire to warm her feet better. It had been a while since she had laughed so hard and it did wonders for her outlook.

“You’ve got mascara on your cheek, Jamie,” said Eliza, leaning forward on the couch to wipe away a black line of mascara with her thumb.

Andrea could not help but stare. Eliza and Jamie gazed at each other most peculiarly, as Eliza let her hand linger on Jamie’s cheek for a second before snatching it away abruptly, blushing.

All three of them took a moment to sip on their whiskey in silence, gazing into the fire lazily. After a few minutes, they all grew tired and decided to retire.

The next morning, Andrea skipped down to breakfast in hopes of finding George, only to be ambushed by him just before reaching the entrance hall. He had jumped out from behind a pillar, grabbing her like a bear, both arms wrapped tightly around her body. She had shrieked out of fear, but soon her anger was replaced by a rush of relief and happiness.

“Scared you, did I, Clearwater?” chuckled George playfully before planting a kiss straight on her mouth.

“ _ Hey! _ ” laughed Andrea, pulling away and taking him by the hand, “Let’s not have a repeat with Filch today, alright? Where have you been hiding these last couple of days? It’s been… strange not having you around.”

“Miss me, eh?” said George brightly, as they walked towards the entrance hall. “We’ve just been mainly in the Gryffindor common room chilling, really – and selling a lot of products. We wanted to lay low for a while after the other day. I would have come to see you, but I had a suspicion that those gits from Umbridge’s inquisitorial squad were lurking around trying to nab us, and I didn’t want to involve you.

“The dust has settled once more – for now,” said George brightly, holding Andrea back before she could enter the Great Hall. “It’s so nice out this morning, what d’ya say we eat out on the grounds today?”

“Sure,” said Andrea, glad to have more time with George alone. She also wanted to question him some more. “I’ll go and grab a pitcher of pumpkin juice and put some toast and eggs on a plate for us. I’ll be right back.”

Andrea let go of George’s hand and jogged into the Great Hall. She snatched up some food and drink from the end of the Ravenclaw table, and sped back out, ignoring Jamie’s and Eliza’s stares from a ways away.

“Nice,” said George, grabbing a couple pieces of toast and stuffing his face. “There’s a willow tree near the edge of the lake – not the Whomping Willow – a normal willow that we can eat under.

“I think we may get away with a bit of cuddling too, if the branches are still as long as they were last week,” said George with a wink, as they descended the stone steps to the grounds. “I think Hagrid needs to trim them, but if we’re lucky – ah! We are! Excellent!”

“I’m getting the impression that you’re still trying to stay under the radar…” said Andrea, as they walked across the springy new growth of the lawn.

The fluffy white clouds were perfectly mirrored in the lake’s icy black surface as they walked along its edge, only disturbed by the occasional gust of the sweet spring breeze. Andrea could hear the faint sound of crickets chirping over the birdsong and occasional hoots of an owl.

Andrea searched the sky for Hugin as she took a seat under the willow tree with George, placing the toast by her feet. He was sure to turn up with food around. He had very sharp senses.

“You forgot the cups,” said George, searching the ground around them, “That’s alright, I’ll run back and grab so–

“Some,” repeated George, staring in surprise at Andrea, who had just conjured a pair of wooden goblets out of thin air. “Wow, lovely! You’re certainly getting  _ good _ at charms! It makes me wish I’d stayed on to take the advanced class… Oh well, it doesn’t matter that much now anyway.”

“Tell me,  _ jaanu _ ,” said Andrea, glancing up at him beneath fluttering lashes, “When were you going to tell me you could  _ make _ dragons? I  _ was _ quite impressed… That’s some advanced magic. I mean, I’m not surprised that you’re capable of it, but  _ still _ .”

“Well,” said George, with a bit of a stammer, running a hand through his hair, “It’s just a bit of experimentation, that’s all. I’m glad you liked it! I was kind of worried that it would make you mad, honestly, being a prefect, and all.”

“No,” said Andrea, seriously, peeking back up at the sky for Hugin. She spotted him far off in the distance, hopping around the gutter of the closest tower. “I wasn’t angry at you for doing what you did, but I  _ was _ worried that you’d be expelled. You could have gotten into  _ so  _ much trouble… and it was pretty unpleasant not seeing you. I suppose Hogwarts just isn’t the same without you. So…yeah… I guess I did miss you, to be honest.”

George sat silently, leaning back on the grass and gazing at Andrea thoughtfully. He frowned slightly with the corners of his lips.

“What?” asked, Andrea, suddenly feeling that there was something that he was not telling her.

Hugin suddenly swooped down onto the grass in front of the tree and hopped over, eyeing George suspiciously. George did not answer her right away, so she busied herself feeding Hugin some scrambled eggs with her fingertips. He soon lost interest, hopped over to the toast on the plate, and began pecking at it voraciously.

“Andrea, love,” said George, finally, with a sigh, “I want to just say, that I love being here with you – so much, really, and I hate the idea of you feeling lonely… but Fred and I feel it’s really time for us to move on from this place.

George stared at Andrea silently for a moment, as if he were trying to read her face, then continued.

“We are only really here to appease our mum, do some market research, and of course, I’m here for  _ you _ , but now with Umbridge breathing down our necks constantly, it’s really not working out for us most of the time,” he said, looking at her kindly, as though he did not want to hurt her feelings.

Andrea’s heart sank. So he was leaving after all. He had said time and time again that he and Fred had no need of being here, but she had never imagined they would  _ choose _ to leave. It was true, Umbridge would definitely be on their tails from now onward. They were not likely to sell any more puking pastels to first years with the inquisitorial squad on their backs. They went to considerable trouble trying to sell them  _ before _ all of this.

“It’s okay, George,” said Andrea after a moment, then looked out at the glistening lake to hide the tears that were welling in her burning eyes. “That makes a lot of sense. It’s not like we won’t see each other after… I mean, I’ll miss you, but I know that you will do well and that you’ve got to get on with your business. There’s no point in you paying rent for the Hogshead attic  _ and _ the shop in Diagon Alley if you aren’t really  _ using _ them. You’re going to do so well, I know it.”

“You really  _ get _ it…” said George appreciatively, reaching over and running his fingers through her hair. “I’m grateful for that, really. Look at me, won’t you? I don’t want you to be sad, lovely. I’ll miss you too – a lot, but we’ll both have a lot on our plates to keep our minds busy (me with the business and you with your N.E.W.T.’s). It will pass the time faster, and I know you want to do well in school. I’ll be less of a distraction, I know that. Look at me, please, Andrea?”

Andrea gulped hard. She really did not want to cry in front of him, and she felt silly for getting so upset about this. He wasn’t Oliver Wood after all. Choosing a path that was good for his future wasn’t the same as choosing his career over her like Oliver had. He was right. This was good for both of them. Soon they would live just meters from each other on Diagon Alley, and they could be together as much as they wanted.

She slowly turned to look into George’s concerned eyes. She saw comprehension flash in them as he noticed how moist her eyes were.

“Come here, love,” said George warmly, scooping her into his arms and holding her tightly. “Don’t cry, please? I love you an awful lot. I see a future with you, you know that?”

Andrea lay her head on his chest listening, eyes closed, to his heartbeat. She sighed. She knew logically that he was not leaving her, but her knee-jerk reaction was that she was being broken up with, somehow. It would not be that long. She had to trust in him.

“When are you planning on leaving?” asked Andrea after a minute, her head still rested on George.

“Well, we aren’t sure about that yet,” said George, tossing his toast’s crust to Hugin who appreciatively gulped it down whole. “Sometime soon – probably during the first week back from break because we’re planning on releasing our portable swamp somewhere in the castle, and I’m afraid we won’t be able to get away with  _ that _ .”

“Portable  _ swamp _ ?” said Andrea. These boys had the strangest ideas…

“Yeah!” said George proudly, “It’s going to be  _ loads _ of fun. We’re going to have to bolt right afterwards though, because we’d rather not be officially expelled… We reckon it’s better to drop out than to be given the boot. It’s going to be a grand exit! Wait and see!”

Andrea doubted that her nerves could handle watching him leave, actually.

They spent the rest of the day, much like the way the spent the rest of their two-week break, wandering the grounds, playing wizard’s chess in the Great Hall, and spending long afternoons under the willow tree.

Because of Filch, Umbridge, and her inquisitorial squad (a group of student cronies that did Umbridge’s bidding for extra credit), Andrea and George found it completely impossible to slip through the secret passage in the One-Eyed-Witch to go to their secret hideaway in Hogsmeade.

By the time Easter Sunday had arrived, the day before the start of classes, Andrea felt that time had slid by at an unfairly rapid rate and she was starting to feel tense.

She had decided to start working on her animagus potion as soon as George left, but her plans of transforming in the Forbidden Forest were crushed. The centaurs were especially dangerous due to their anger at Dumbledore for taking one of their own into his employment against their customs.

She had no idea where else she would be able to transform, and George’s departure became uncomfortably imminent one afternoon while watching the twins and Lee Jordan taking turns playing wizard’s chess.

“So, we’ve got a  _ date _ ,” said Fred with a wink at Andrea as he ordered his knight to move across the chessboard to wallop one of George’s pawns.

“When?” asked Andrea, feeling her anxiety creeping up again.

“Tomorrow,” said George, glancing at Andrea who was sitting beside him.

“The timing is a favor for a friend…” said Fred, cursing as George took out his rook. “No better time, really, I reckon. I don’t see much point in putting it off in any case.”

“Ah, okay,” said Andrea quietly.

“Hey, Freddie,” said George, “After this game, Andrea and I are going to go have some tea by the lake, right love?”

“Oh… okay,” said Andrea, grateful that he detected her change of mood. “I’ll go ahead and get the stuff for it, then.”

“Then I’ll have a chance to cream Lee once and for all,” said Fred, ordering one of his pawns forward on the board. “You’ve had a lucky streak haven’t you, Lee?”

“Don’t be sore that I’m the better player,” laughed Lee, elbowing Fred in the ribs and looking up at Andrea with glee. “I beat these boys about seventy percent of the time.”

“Maybe so,” said Fred in a low jibing voice, nodding over at Angelina at the end of the table, “But who got the girl in the end, Lee?  _ Ouch _ !”

Andrea got up from the table as Lee elbowed Fred sharply, and hurried down to the kitchen to get some tea and cakes. By the time Andrea had made it back to the double doors of the Great Hall, George was already striding out of them to meet her.

“You alright, love?” said George, taking the tea tray from her and walking beside her towards the front doors.

“I’m not sure…” said Andrea quietly, glancing up at George, “I’m… pretty anxious and stressed out… I want to talk with you about it.”

Now that George was leaving, Andrea saw no reason to keep her transformation from him any longer. She had supported him in his decision to drop out of school, so she was fairly sure that he would support her.

“Of course!” said George, as he passed out one of the doors that Andrea held open for him.

It was a bright, sunny spring afternoon, and smoke was rising from Hagrid’s hut. The large cabbages in Hagrid’s garden shown crisply in the distance against the rich dark earth that they budded from.

“Let’s go over there,” said Andrea, pointing to a shady oak with a nice view of Hagrid’s garden and the castle. George agreed, and soon they were buttering blueberry scones under its creaking branches.

“Spill it then,” said George cheerfully as he poured her a steaming cup of tea. “What’s going on?”

“Alright, well…” said Andrea, uncertain where to begin, “I’m planning something kind of big… for after you and Fred leave. I’ve actually been planning it for a while, but only McGonagall and my parents know. It’s actually pretty dangerous…”

“Danger is my middle name,” said George in a singsong voice, winking at her over his cup of tea.

“Yes,” said Andrea with a small laugh, “Well, I was supposed to complete this potentially dangerous task with ministry supervision, but I’ve decided not to include them.”

“Wise girl!” said George, brightly.

“That means I’ll have to find somewhere private – somewhere no one will interrupt me, to finish my task. I was going to go into the Forbidden Forest, but there aren’t any safe bits in it left now that the centaurs are feeling murderous. I don’t know where I’m supposed to do this now that Umbridge has this place crawling with her minions!”

“What is it that you’re planning on doing, Andrea,” said George, clearly trying his best to try and sound natural, but Andrea thought she heard a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m going to complete my first transformation…” said Andrea, looking into George’s warm, brown eyes in which a slight reddish tone shone as the sunlight passed through them from the side. “As an animagus.”

George was silent for a moment, but then a grin slowly formed on his face.

“Wicked!” said George, beaming, “That’s some advanced stuff for sure, but I know someone way less bright than you who did it, so I’m sure it’ll be  _ nothing _ for you!”

“Who else, besides McGonagall, do you know who is an animagus?” said Andrea with surprise, “There aren’t many in all of Britain!”

“Let’s just say that you’re not the first person to want to leave the ministry out of the picture,” said George, chuckling to himself. “He doesn’t get out much, you’d never have met him, I expect.”

“Anyway,” continued Andrea, “It’s a really complicated process that involves extremely advanced potion making with very precise timing, and I’ll need quite a bit of luck… And more than that, right now I need somewhere to  _ do _ it. Somewhere I can see the sky.”

“Hm…” said George thoughtfully, “I’ve got somewhere for you, actually. We were using it for the DA, you know, Harry’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons? Well, we’ve been cleared out of there for the most part now, and I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t use it for your own purposes. Have you heard of the Room of Requirement?”

“Yeah…” said Andrea, incredulously, “I thought that was just a rumor. Did you find it?”

“Oh yeah,” said George, taking a large bite of a scone. “Fred and I have known about it for ages actually. It would be perfect for you – just think about exactly what you need while pacing back and forth in front of it three times, and it should set you up in ways that nowhere else could, I reckon.

“No one would bother you there,” said George, stroking his long fingers down Andrea’s back, “Especially if you keep secrecy in your mind while you’re thinking of your needs. No one should be able to get in if you don’t want them to.”

“How can I find it?” asked Andrea, suddenly feeling a little more hopeful.

“You know that tapestry of that bloke teaching some trolls ballet?” asked George. “Right across from it is where the door will show up, but you have to pace in front of it first. Easy! You just have to make sure no one’s around to see you do it.”

“Wow…thanks, George,” said Andrea, relief washing over her. This was an even better plan than her original one, and with her Felix Felicis potion, she would likely have no issues with anyone bothering her.

Andrea sighed and lay flat on the ground with her head on George’s lap, the sun shining warmly through her closed eyelids.

“I  _ am  _ still going to miss you,” said Andrea quietly. “I’m not sure I’ll feel up to watching you go, honestly…”

“I’ll miss you too, lovely,” said George, scratching his fingers on her head absentmindedly. “Promise me one thing, will you?”

“What is it?” asked Andrea sleepily.

“Don’t lose interest in me?” said George with a small laugh. Andrea could hear the sheepishness in his voice. Andrea’s eyes shot open and she glared up at George.

“Do you really think it was easy for me to confess my feelings to you, George?” asked Andrea with a slight edge to her voice. “It’s hard for me to be open or to trust people. I’ve told you already that I love you. I trust you. We’ve known each other and been friends for  _ years _ , and we’re only just now together. Don’t be silly, George.”

“All right, all right!” laughed George, holding up his hands defensively. “Can’t a bloke feel a tad insecure for a  _ minute _ ?”

Andrea sat up suddenly, shooting George a daring look and biting her lip mischievously, before throwing a handful of scone crumbs at his face and running off at full speed with George close on her heels.

When Monday came, Andrea mechanically attended her classes and tried to keep her mind on her work, but it was proving rather difficult. She and George had decided to say their goodbyes the night before instead of rushing them that day.

They had kissed slowly and ardently under the willow tree by the lake for a long time before the sun went down. The memory stung, knowing that it had been the last of George that she would be seeing for quite a few months.

After her last class, which she had left a few minutes early to get ahead of the crowd that would undoubtedly gather soon, Andrea hurried up to Ravenclaw Tower. She knew that Fred and George would be setting off their swamp any moment now and she did not want to see it. Maybe it was dramatic of her, but she did not think she could watch them fly away on their brooms, as they had planned, with a straight face.

In fact, she was feeling quite irritated at herself all week because every time she thought of George leaving her to suffer through the last Umbridge-filled months at Hogwarts without his company, she felt very hot and clammy and her eyes started to burn. She had to be pragmatic. There was no sense in getting worked up over something so trivial.

Once in the common room, Andrea flung herself into a small loveseat facing a window with a good view of the school, all the way past the roof of the entrance hall to the dark green forest beyond. With a high-pitched creaking noise, Andrea poked the window open gently with her wand.

The wind blew over her face, as she stared out over the school. She heard owls hooting in the distance from the owlery and the sound of a bee tapping against the next window over, but nothing else. Suddenly, there was a far off bang.

Andrea watched and waited, arms folded across her propped up knees. After only a few minutes, it was done. There they were, two tiny dark figures in the distance flying up into the sky from the front doors of the castle. Andrea watched them looping and flitting about just above the school, before flying off into the distance, growing smaller and smaller until they were only tiny dots that disappeared into the cloudy, amber sky.

Andrea dropped her head onto her knees, scrunching up her eyes to prevent them from doing anything inappropriate, but there was nothing for it. Her throat was sticky and her head was buzzing. She felt hot tears seeping through her robes onto her knees.

Hugin fluttered in the window, instinctually seeming to sense his human’s distress, and hopped onto her shoulder, nuzzling her and croaking softly in her ear. She reached up and scratched him without looking. She still had Hugin. She still had friends at Hogwarts. It was going to take some getting used to not having George around, but it would be alright.

After what felt like a long time, she heard the rumble of people coming up the stairwell to the common room. With a deep breath, Andrea sat up straight and wiped her eyes.

Andrea resolutely marched out of the common room and down the winding stairs. She had made up her mind. There was no point in putting off her transformation any longer. She felt that she owed it to Professor McGonagall to tell her what she planned on doing.

McGonagall had supported her this far, and she had been instrumental for preparing her these last few years. As Andrea neared the landing outside of McGonagall’s office, it was clear that pandemonium was still in full reign.

Many students were yelling and running about, and a green sticky substance could be seen on the hems of many of their robes as they came around the corner that led to the entrance hall.

Andrea carefully walked up to the door of McGonagall’s office and raised her hand to knock, but she heard the unmistakable sounds of a row on the other side of the door.

“You’re the  _ Transfiguration  _ teacher!” squawked a shrill, girly voice that could be no one but Umbridge. “I  _ know _ that you  _ know _ how to fix this mess! Do not try to fool me. It is plain that you secretly enjoy watching this school fall to pieces, but – ”

“You know  _ nothing _ of what I ‘secretly enjoy’,” snapped McGonagall. “As for this school, there is no one who cares more for this school than I, so I  _ suggest _ that you get  _ out  _ of my office this instant!”

Andrea stood back. It was clearly not a good time, so she made her way back up the stairs to the West wing of the castle. Now that Andrea thought about it, telling McGonagall that she planned on breaking wizarding law at that particular moment was probably not the best idea. She had enough on her plate, and Andrea was not sure that she wanted McGonagall forbidding her (or worse, physically preventing her) from making her transformation. She would have to act alone.

With George gone, there was nothing left to distract her from her studies. Back in the common room, Andrea stood staring out at the last rays of daylight poking over the treetops. It was decided. She would spend the next couple of months dedicating herself completely to her studies and her transformation. Things were changing out there in the world. Andrea could feel it, and she certainly planned on being prepared for it.


	17. The Room of Requirement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: Jan 21, 2021

Andrea decided that the best way to keep herself distracted from George’s departure from Hogwarts, and to keep her animagus preparations away from prying eyes, was to use her free periods to organize herself and to locate the Room of Requirement. She was only taking six N.E.W.T classes, granted five of those six were advanced and her schedule included several days of doubled classes per week, but she still had at least one free period a day.

After double Advanced Transfiguration, a day after the swamp ordeal, Andrea hurried up to Ravenclaw tower for her forty-five minute break before lunch. She threw open her trunk and moved aside her folded clothes to expose the little wooden box that Eliza had purchased for her.

It had been the perfect place to store the key ingredients needed for the animagus potion which she had obtained over the Summer. Inside, there were three mandrake leaves (she only needed one, but she liked to stay on the safe side), the chrysalis of a death’s-head hawkmoth, a silver spoon, and a crystal phial given to her by Professor McGonagall last year.

She reviewed the recipe in full that she had scribbled in her notebook:

_ A Mandrake leaf must be soaked in the drinker's mouth for an entire month without pause, and the dew must be taken with a silver spoon from a place previously untouched by sunlight or humans for at least seven days. Overall, at least a month of preparation is required. _

_ Place the now-soaked Mandrake leaf in a small crystal phial where it is struck directly by the light given off by the moon (if the night is cloudy or the moon is otherwise obscured, the entire Mandrake Leaf process will need to be repeated). _

_ Add one strand of hair to the phial. _

_ Add a teaspoon of dew to the phial. _

_ Add one Death's-head Hawk Moth chrysalis to the phial and place the mixture in a dark, undisturbed place until the next lightning storm. _

_ If executed correctly, the potion will turn blood-red at the instant lightning first strikes during the next lightning storm, signifying its completion. _

_ The potion must be completely blood-red in colour. One batch makes approximately a mouthful and only holds enough for one person. _

_ * * New note to self… _

_ May 3 – Full moon, put mandrake leaf in mouth _

_ June 1 – Full moon, soak leaf in moonlight in phial _

_ June 2- Add hair, dew, and chrysalis… drink Felix Felicis, pray for luck… luck can’t solve everything so don’t be sloppy. _

Her timing was nearly perfect, but it cut very close to her N.E.W.T’s. She needed to keep the mandrake leaf in her mouth for twenty-eight days non-stop, and tomorrow was a full moon. She planned on starting then, and by the time the leaf was ready to come out, the next full moon would have arrived. At that point, she needed to let the leaf sit in the crystal phial in moonlight, and the light given off by the full moon was not only more powerful, but less likely to be obscured by clouds.

Thankfully, the chrysalis was still in good shape, as she had put a preservation spell on it months ago to keep it fresh, but she was not entirely sure that it would work considering how old it must have been. It was as shiny, plump, and brown as ever. Andrea thought it sort of reminded her of one of Saber’s cat turds. She was used to using rather foul ingredients in her potions, but she still avoided thinking too much about the fact that she would have to mash it up and drink its juices.

Andrea stared into the box, silently cursing herself for waiting so long to start this. Maybe there really  _ was _ no other time that she could have done it… plus, she doubted that she would have fancied kissing George with a mandrake leaf in her mouth.

With everything in order, Andrea descended back into the common room, which she found empty… well, almost empty. Andrea noticed Jamie sitting by the library niche reading a book, frowning slightly.

“Hey Jamie,” said Andrea, walking over to her, “I’m going down to lunch in a minute. You want to join me?”

“Maybe in a little while,” said Jamie, seeming uncharacteristically distracted. “Actually, Andrea, can we talk for a minute before we go down?”

“Sure,” said Andrea, sitting down on the other side of the small table where Jamie sat, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been kind of… confused,” said Jamie, clacking her nails against the spine of her book. “I’m not really sure what to do.”

“About what?” asked Andrea.

“About… well,” said Jamie, pushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. “Things have been weird between Eliza and me ever since she broke up with Lexi.”

“Weird how?”

“Well… I mean, things have actually been great. Pretty normal actually, but I finally realized something that I really didn’t want to think about,” said Jamie, biting her lip nervously.

“And what is that?” said Andrea, who had an inkling of where this was going.

“I think I  _ like  _ her,” said Jamie, leaning over the table, in a panicked whisper.

Andrea nodded slowly at Jamie. She had suspected this, but she also wanted to give Jamie the space to lead this conversation, so she remained silent.

“I just…” said Jamie, fidgeting now with a quill that she snatched up from the table, “I’ve only ever been with  _ guys _ , you know? And I think I’ve had a thing for Eliza for a while now, but I don’t know what to do because now I can’t ignore my feelings anymore. I don’t think she has  _ any  _ idea because I’ve never mentioned the fact that I’m bisexual to her… well, because it just never came up! I guess we both were avoiding talking about things like that… I don’t know.”

“Are you wanting to tell her how you feel?” said Andrea.

“Well,  _ yes _ !” said Jamie, frantically, eyes glistening ever slightly. “And no! What about our friendship? What if she doesn’t  _ like  _ me? I doubt she would ever imagine that I would feel this way for her. I  _ love _ her, Andrea!”

Andrea measured her words carefully before speaking.

“I think she might have more of an idea than you think, Jamie,” said Andrea softly, taking Jamie by the hand.

“What makes you think that?” said Jamie, eyes as wide as Galleons.

“Don’t you remember that fight you had some months back?” said Andrea. “The one where you said, ‘And would it be so bad if you fancied  _ me,’ _ or something along those lines?”

“Oh…” said Jamie, biting a nail. “I had forgotten about that… But that doesn’t  _ necessarily  _ mean that I meant that I  _ wanted _ her to fancy me!”

“Maybe not,” said Andrea, leaning back in her chair, and re-shelving Jamie’s book for her. “But it’s  _ highly _ suspicious. I actually do suspect that Eliza feels the same for you… just based on what I’ve been seeing.”

“So you think I should just  _ tell  _ her?” said Jamie, her knee bouncing nervously.

“I mean, you  _ could _ , but I’m sure that would be pretty nerve wracking for you,” said Andrea. “I think you could test the waters a little bit before diving in. But I do hope you know… it’s going to have to be  _ you _ who confesses your feelings – considering all of the grief you gave Eliza when you first found out about Lexi. I doubt she’d be willing to put herself out there after that.”

“Ugh! I know you’re right,” said Jamie, throwing her arms up in frustration. “I’ve been thinking that  _ too, _ and that’s why I’ve sort of been freaking out a bit.”

“You can do it. I know you can,” said Andrea, smiling at Jamie and suddenly noticing a strong parallel between this conversation and the one that she had had with Roger back in the Fall. “You just need to remember that the year is almost up, and you’ll probably want to tell her before you go back to Ireland.”

Jamie stared into space for a minute, deep in thought.

“I’ll figure something out eventually…” she said softly. “Thanks, Andrea. Your reassurance helped some, I think.”

“Ready to eat something?” said Andrea, knowing fully that the key to a happy Jamie was her stomach.

“Oh yes…” Jamie said, leaping up from her seat. “Right, let’s go. Not a word to Roger, do ya’ hear?”

“Not a chance,” said Andrea laughing as they descended the spiral staircase and down to the Great Hall.

As far as Andrea knew, Jamie made no progress with Eliza that day, but Andrea was ready for the next step in her own quest – placing the mandrake leaf on her bedside table (after prying it out of Hugin’s greedy beak and locking him in his cage for the night) to put in her mouth first thing in the morning.

When morning came, Andrea opened her bed hangings just enough to snatch up her leaf before shutting them again for privacy. She slipped the bitter leaf into mouth, pressed it against the inside of her left cheek, carefully slipped the point of her rowan tree wand into her mouth, and with great care uttered a sticking charm.

Luckily it worked perfectly, rather than gluing her tongue to the roof of her mouth, the leaf clung onto her cheek. This way she would not accidentally swallow it or spit it out in her sleep. Andrea sighed, as the leaf was hard and rough, and it was already poking uncomfortably against her gums whenever she closed her mouth.

“ _ Muffliato _ ,” said Andrea, drawing a circle around the edge of her bed with her wand. She really did not want to be overheard for the next spell she needed to cast. As Andrea placed the tip of her wand directly over her heart, she felt a thrill somewhere in the pit of her stomach – her process was finally starting.

“ _ Amato Animo Animato Animagus, _ ” whispered Andrea in a clear voice. Done. She would have to do this at sunrise and sundown each day, twenty-eight more times before she was ready to perform it for the final time when she was ready to take her potion.

Her next step, besides her daily incantation, would be to find the Room of Requirement. Andrea, however, did not get a chance to search for the Room of Requirement for a whole fortnight, as she had received substantial loads of homework in all six of her classes which added up to approximately thirteen roles of parchment. Between her homework, classwork, and N.E.W.T. studying, she had not had the time to figure out when would be the best time to sneak up to the seventh floor and poke around without Filch or one of Umbridge’s minions lurking around.

By the end of the month, Andrea was growing  _ very _ tired of having the mandrake leaf on her inner cheek. She had rubbed some essence of murtlap on her gums to help ease the chafing, but the essence tasted like sea bilge and she had to apply it three times daily. Eating was painful, despite the murtlap essence, so Andrea had been sticking to soups for the past week.

“Aren’t you  _ tired _ of potato soup?” asked Jamie, raising an eyebrow at Andrea’s bowl in front of her one night at dinner.

Andrea sighed and took another spoonful of soup without responding. Her temperament was becoming increasingly foul these days, as the stress of school was weighing on her and she was missing George’s comforting presence like mad. She had only received one letter from him since his departure two weeks ago saying that he had arrived in Diagon Alley safely and was busy setting up their shop.

She was also growing weary of listening to Roger ramble on in circles every chance he got about the importance of their last Quidditch game, on June first, for his career.

“I mean, with Weasley as their keeper, it should be a simple matter of keeping our team in good form,” said Roger for the hundredth time. “As long as Cho catches the Snitch – ”

“As long as Cho gets your damn Snitch before Ginny does, you should be fine,  _ yes _ Roger,” said Andrea, irritably, “You’ll be  _ fine _ .”

“Andrea,” said Roger, clearly slighted by Andrea’s interruption, “This could be the game of my career! The recruiter for the Tornados is coming to see me play! The Appleby Arrows and Caerphilly Catapults couldn’t make it, but I still need to have my team  _ sharp _ ! What’s more, Cho’s performance has been slipping these past months… I’ve been considering replacing her. If I can’t impress the recruiters, then that’s bad for all of us.”

“Sorry…” sighed Andrea, before tuning him out again and scanning the Great Hall.

Filch was sweeping up a pile of boiled cabbage that a clumsy, first-year Hufflepuff boy had tipped onto the floor. The boy’s face was a bright grapefruit pink as Filch told him off. Watching the scene with distinct smugness, Umbridge sat in Dumbledore’s headmaster’s seat at the staff table while nibbling at a roll. Andrea glanced back at the Slytherin table. It was full. Most of the Inquisitorial Squad members were in Slytherin house, so she doubted that there would be many, if any, patrolling the halls at the moment.

“Hey, guys,” said Andrea, pushing away the rest of her soup and getting to her feet, “I’m going to check something out really quick, I’ll see you in the common room…”

Andrea bustled out of the Great Hall, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder, and made for the toilets. She washed her face in the sink, then peeked out of the lavatory door to make sure she had not been followed.

This was the best chance that she had encountered all week to look for the Room of Requirement, and she did not intend on wasting it. She followed the less-traveled route, that she had taken with George on occasion, all the way up to the seventh floor without a hiccup – other than narrowly being spotted by Peeves who was bouncing around the ceiling of a small vestibule, cackling, and mashing wads of chewing gum around the base of a chandelier.

Finally, Andrea emerged on the seventh floor and quietly searched for the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmey trying to teach some trolls to dance classical ballet. She found it sooner than she had expected, as it was rather large and notably dingy.

Andrea faced the blank wall across from the tapestry, closed her eyes, and concentrated, trying not to worry about the potential of being caught. What  _ did _ she need? She needed somewhere where she could feel safe while she transformed. Somewhere that no one could find her or enter. She wanted to see the sky so she could watch for lightning. It would be nice to have somewhere to lie down and rest as well Chances were, the transformation would be exhausting. She would need somewhere to store her potion as well…

Andrea concentrated her hardest on a vision of the combination of all the elements she needed the most, and paced back and forth in front of the wall, just as George had instructed.

Andrea turned and opened her eyes. A small, dark oak door had appeared on the wall in front of her. Without hesitation, Andrea reached for the knob and pushed in before anyone could arrive and see her.

Andrea shut the door behind her and stopped dead, stunned with shock at what was before her. The room before her was, simply, beautiful. The vast ceiling formed a dome, just like in the Ravenclaw common room, except the ceiling was entirely made of glass. Stars were twinkling softly above her, and light from the full moon cast its pale light down over the room so that everything glowed silver. The large, circular room was lit by the soft glow of numerous candelabras scattered about the windows that lined the walls, surrounding a moss green, circular, shag rug in the middle of the floor.

Somehow, Andrea was reminded of her room back in Diagon Alley… There was a plush futon with an assortment of pillows opposite the door, which had now disappeared behind her, and a trunk not far beside. Andrea walked over to open the trunk. It was entirely empty except for a lock and key that lay at the dark bottom. This would be perfect for Andrea to lock away her ingredients in a dark place.

Andrea was completely taken aback by the speed and mystery of this room’s magic… It would be perfect. It was more than Andrea had ever anticipated. She felt safe and relaxed here, just as she had needed. It was crucial for the success of the transformation for the witch or wizard that was transforming to be as at ease as possible. Far away, Andrea heard the rumble of movement in the castle. Dinner was over.

“This was perfect,” said Andrea to the room in a quiet voice, “This is just what I need… thank you, I’ll be back.”

As soon as Andrea had finished speaking, the door materialized once more, and with a fleeting glance backwards, Andrea slipped back out into the seventh floor corridor.

Andrea watched as the door dissolved into the wall just as quickly as it had appeared, then hurried back down the corridor the way she had come. Suddenly, Andrea heard footsteps approaching from behind – her some ten feet away.

“Stop! Where do you think you’re going?” shouted a deep, male voice behind her. “Malfoy! I’ve found one up here!”

Andrea slowly stopped walking and closed her eyes tightly shut with a sigh. Great. Just what she needed right now. She slowly turned around, placing a hand on her hip and standing up tall.

Blaise Zabini, a tall, dark, and handsome Slytherin in his fifth year stood before her. He clearly had his own opinions on her appearance as well, as his face changed at once from stony to smirky and appraising, and his eyes scanned her up and down.

“ A Ravenclaw prefect?” said Blaise in a quiet rumbling base, taking a few steps closer to Andrea to loom over her. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing so far away from Ravenclaw Tower at a time like this?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” said Andrea coolly, doing her best to stare him down (although he was much taller than she was). “I don’t remember  _ you _ being a part of the inquisitorial squad.”

“In other words, you would have remembered me if you had seen me before?” said Blaise with a smirk, looking down at her with an undeniably intriguing intensity. He had an air of mystery which he was clearly very aware of it, and as annoying as it was, Andrea could not deny that she was not entirely immune to it. “I’m  _ sure _ , I’ve seen you around before though. You’re hard to forget…”

“Blaise!” said the Malfoy brat, striding over, his sleek blonde hair combed back in a distinctly posh manner. “Caught one have, you? Excellent.”

“Caught me doing  _ what _ exactly?” asked Andrea, rounding on Malfoy. Andrea thought, to an outsider, this interaction might look somewhat comical; two tall young men towering over a significantly shorter Andrea who was glaring up at the pair of them as if they had trodden on her vegetable patch.

“Don’t play  _ dumb _ with me, Clearwater,” drawled Malfoy, though he took a step back from Andrea, as if he were nervous that she might spit on his shoes. “You and I both know that you’re lurking around the scene of the crime. Your name might not have been on that  _ list _ , but I’m familiar with the type of company you keep.”

“List?” snapped Andrea, placing both hands defiantly on her hips now, “What list? What  _ crime _ ? Oh! Wait, are you referring to that Potter’s Club rubbish? I have no need for defensive tutoring from a  _ fifth  _ year like yourselves, thanks. Now can you leave me alone before I give you both detention for harassing a prefect?”

Blaise and Malfoy exchanged a short, surprised look before Malfoy pressed on.

“But this is around about where we found them hiding. Don’t you pretend to be ignorant of that,” laughed Malfoy. “No, I don’t buy it. Now tell me, what errand has Potter sent you on? And before you answer, next time try responding with a little more  _ respect _ … I’m a prefect  _ too _ after all.”

Malfoy reached for his prefect badge that was pinned to the front of his robes and polished it briefly with his thumb.

“ _ Potter _ and I don’t  _ speak _ ,” said Andrea, narrowing her eyes, as she glared first into Malfoy’s blue then Zabini’s shrewd, black eyes. “And,  _ certainly _ , no one sends me anywhere.”

“Perhaps…” said Malfoy, shooting an amused, haughty glance at Blaise, who was still staring at Andrea with distinct interest. “But you still haven’t explained why you’re up here. Spit it out, Clearwater, or prefect-or-not, you are going to have to explain it to  _ Umbridge _ .”

Andrea had to think fast. What was near here? Gryffindor common room would not be a great excuse. She was a Ravenclaw, and she already knew how Malfoy felt about George… Why else had she come up this way lately? That was it!

“I was just going to meet Professor Flitwick in his office,” snapped Andrea, “If you really  _ must _ know. He’s my head of house, so I’m afraid this matter does not concern either of you. Now, if you don’t mind, I must be going.”

“What?” jeered Malfoy, “What’s the rush? Dinner has only just ended and Flitwick’s little legs can only carry him so fast. Besides, it looks to me like Blaise here is quite taken with you, Clearwater… That’s probably just because he doesn’t know about your imposturous muggle father.”

Andrea refused to lash out. It was what the bratty muggle-hater wanted. Instead, she chose the route of smoldering silence. She shifted her glare from Malfoy to Blaise. As she glared at him, Blaise’s eyes widened slightly, clearly not as used to Andrea’s strikingly unusual eyes as her friends were. After a long, threatening look that left both boys in silence, Andrea turned on her heel and stalked away, still feeling their eyes follow her down the corridor until she turned right around a corner.

Once she was sure that she was not being followed, Andrea dashed for the Grand Staircase and ran at top speed towards Ravenclaw Tower. That had been a  _ very  _ close call… Andrea could not believe that she had gotten out of that situation unscathed.

The reason as to why the Slytherins had let her go so easy became more apparent that weekend at their final Hogsmeade visit of the term.

Andrea, Eliza, Jamie, and Roger were all seated along Madam Rosmerta’s highly polished bar waiting to be served while Eliza informed them all of her plans for after the end of the term.

“I still can hardly believe that I’ve been accepted,” said Eliza, staring at her internship acceptance letter for the Wizengamot. “Out of all the hundreds of applicants,  _ I  _ got it… I think they were only accepting  _ four _ this year too. It says here that Amelia Bones will be my preceptor.”

“ _ Didn’t _ I tell you that you’d get it!” said Jamie over the clamor of voices in the Three Broomsticks, “I never doubted you for a minute!”

“Well, as smart as Eliza is, it  _ is  _ quite difficult to get an internship at the Ministry, much less with the Wizengamot,” said Roger, smiling and taking his butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta. “Eliza, you should be proud. By the way, I’ve got three Quidditch teams looking at recruiting me for next year – the Appeby Arrows, the Caerphilly Catapolts, and – ”

“The Tutshill Tornados, yes, _we know_ , Roger,” said Jamie over her pint-sized flagon. “But you know what _you_ didn’t know? I am ‘tentatively’ accepted for the Muggle Liaison position at Irish Wizarding International in the Faerie Fort Preservation Department – as long as I can make decent scores on my N.E.W.T.’s.”

“That’s amazing, Jamie!” said Andrea, leaning over to hug her.

Over Jamie’s shoulder, Andrea saw the pub doors swing open and Blaise Zabini strode slowly inside. He was alone, as per usual, and seemed to be scanning the room for an acceptable seat when his dark, penetrating eyes fell on Andrea. The corners of his lips curled up into a hint of smile, but his eyes remained hard and calculating.

He wandered over to an empty booth nearby and sat down facing Andrea’s direction. Luckily, Andrea could easily face the bar to avoid his gaze, which he had brazenly fixed on her ever since he had sat down, but it felt as if she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head the longer she sat there.

After a few minutes of trying to ignore this sensation by listening to her friends chatter on about their post-Hogwarts plans, Andrea stole another glance behind her. As soon as she had turned, Blaise’s eyes flicked up from his whiskey to Andrea.

The start it gave Andrea to have been caught looking at him caused her cheeks to burn with embarrassment, but Blaise still did not avert his eyes; instead he motioned to Andrea, beckoning her with two fingers.

Andrea snapped back around to face the bar.

“Hey guys,” said Andrea quietly. Even though she was sure he could not hear her over the rabble from that distance, there was something otherworldly about Zabini that made her feel the need for stealth. “Blaise Zabini keeps staring at me, and he wants me to go over there in his booth –  _ don’t _ look at Jamie! Just behind us.”

“Oh yeah, him,” said Roger thoughtfully after a quick glance. “He’s a fifth year, isn’t he? Promising talent on the broomstick from what I understand. I heard his mother is a renowned  _ beauty.  _ Filthy rich as well, as a matter of fact. Pure bloods as well and proud of it. Did you know his mother has gone through something like six husbands? They all died mysteriously, but each left her with an astounding sum of Galleons. She’s built a whole fortune, I expect.”

“He doesn’t  _ look _ like a fifth year,” said Jamie, stealing a glance over her shoulder. “I see the apple must not fall far from the tree… That man is  _ gorgeous  _ … You know him Andrea?”

“No, not really,” said Andrea, “I’ve seen him around, but he apparently was hanging out with the Malfoy brat while Malfoy was on his Inquisitorial Squad patrol the other day… He stopped me and I told them both off.”

“Is he a prefect?” said Eliza nervously, “Maybe he wants to get you into trouble.”

“Nah,” said Roger, absentmindedly digging through his chips for the softest ones. “He’s not. Malfoy  _ is, _ but I doubt they could do much or they would have done so already.”

“Maybe he wants to warn you about something Malfoy’s got brewing for you,” said Jamie hopefully. “I haven’t ever seen them together on my part, so I reckon they aren’t great mates or anything.”

“I’m  _ not _ going over there,” laughed Andrea, taking a large gulp of her butterbeer. “He can wait all day if he likes. I’m not just going to jump up at his beck and call just because he’s got a pretty face.”

As she said this, Andrea had a sinking feeling that Blaise  _ would _ make himself heard, whether Andrea wanted to hear him or not. Several minutes later, after the conversation had swung back to Roger’s Quidditch team preferences once again, Andrea feigned stretching in her chair to see if Blaise was still watching her.

He was. Not actively watching her, but every now and then he would swirl his firewhiskey in his glass and set his gaze on her in that same mysterious, alluring manner. Andrea did not blush this time. She glared purposefully back into Blaise’s eyes so that he could see  _ just _ how irritating she found his incessant staring.

To be perfectly honest, Andrea felt a small thrill at the idea that someone as fascinating as Blaise Zabini could hardly keep his eyes off of her, but it was distracting and, therefore, irritating.

However, instead of backing down as she had hoped, Blaise frowned slightly, tossed back his remaining whiskey, and slowly rose from his seat in his booth. Andrea filled with hot dread. He was going to come over. Andrea turned back to her butterbeer, and busied herself with swirling it in her tankard to dissolve some of the bubbles at the surface with a crackling hiss.

Andrea felt him before she saw him – a presence lingered at the bar on her left, but she refused to look at him. She found his behavior quite  _ rude _ , in fact. In her peripherals, she could see his dark, sinewy forearms resting on the bar next to her as he leaned against it, his fingers patiently intertwined. She refused to look at him directly. Finally, after Andrea was sure she could bear the awkward silence no longer, he spoke.

“Clearwater, is it?” said Blaise, softly. She could hear the smile in his voice. She could hardly believe that he found her annoyance  _ amusing. _

Andrea glanced over at her friends. They were so engrossed in their own conversation that they did not seem to have noticed Blaise’s appearance nor did it seem that they could hear him over the din of the pub.

“ _ Yes _ ,” said Andrea testily, turning in her high bar seat to face Blaise at last.

Blaise turned to lean one elbow on the bar as he stood there, and set the corners of his lips to smile politely at Andrea.

“Thank you for your attention, Ms. Clearwater,” said Blaise, smoothly. He then extended a hand to Andrea, “Blaise Zabini – we never were officially introduced. I wish to apologize for my rudeness.”

Andrea stared at his outstretched hand for a moment. She did not trust his intentions, but he had a certain charisma about him that made Andrea suspect that he was very good at getting his way. She took his hand in hers awkwardly, but he shook it with a warm, firm grip and stared unwaveringly into Andrea’s eyes.

“Er,  _ Andrea _ ,” said Andrea, feeling the increasing need to glance anywhere else to break the overwhelming eye contact. She could feel herself starting to sweat. She did not want her face to give away how attractive that she thought he was, and she was irritated at herself for being so easily flustered by a man. But that was always how it went, wasn’t it? Men seemed to have some kind of sixth sense to know when a woman was unaccompanied by a male companion – and Roger did  _ not _ count.

“Andrea,” repeated Blaise in his low baritone. “Pretty. Elegant. I like it.”

“I don’t mean to be  _ rude _ , Blaise,” said Andrea through flushed cheeks, “But what is it that you want? You’ve been staring at me for a quarter of an hour…”

“And I asked you to join me in my booth,” said Blaise thoughtfully, “But no matter. No offence taken, Ms. Andrea.”

“And  _ what _ did you want to talk to me about?” said Andrea, growing impatient. She really did not want her friends to notice how flustered she was getting while talking with Zabini – if they ever bothered to pay attention.

“I thought it was obvious,” said Blaise, calling over Madam Rosemerta and ordering two firewhiskeys. “I’m a rather traditional man, Ms. Andrea… I will be frank in saying that I find you positively enchanting, and I simply wish to make a connection with you.”

Andrea was definitely red in the face now. Blaise slid a glass of firewhiskey in front of Andrea and watched her intently.

“How is it that you are able to order firewhiskey?” asked Andrea after a moment. She was mildly curious, but she mainly wanted to change the direction of this conversation. “Aren’t you like sixteen or something? I thought you were a fifth year?”

“Ah, well,” said Blaise taking a small sip lazily, “Mother had me attend a year of private tutoring before coming to Hogwarts, so I am a year behind in a sense, but in another I may be several years ahead. I am of age – to answer your question. I turned seventeen this October.”

“Ah,” said Andrea awkwardly, staring down into her whiskey glass. She looked up at Blaise, he was still watching her with a gentle curiosity.

“Do you not drink hard liquor, Ms. Clearwater?” asked Blaise softly.

“Er, I do…” said Andrea, feeling no less uncomfortable than at the start of their interaction. “I just… Look, Zabini, I hate to be blunt, but it looks like I have to be. I am in a  _ relationship _ , so I’ll just have to stop you right where you are.”

Blaise stared on at Andrea, unconcernedly, and shrugged one shoulder lightly.

“I am not surprised that you’re taken – it is not often that beautiful women are left single for long.” Blaise sipped from his glass again, then suddenly took a step closer to Andrea, so that they were a mere foot apart. “I suppose it’s my turn to be blunt now,  _ Ms. Clearwater _ . You are young. You  _ aren’t _ married. You have options…

“I am a fairly intuitive man, Andrea” said Blaise softly, piercing her with his serious black eyes, then reaching out a hand slowly to gently touch Andrea’s neck just below her jaw. Andrea sat frozen, her heart pounding in spite of herself. “I can plainly see that you are  _ attracted _ to me, as I am to you. Don’t try and deny it – it is clear to me from your every action, your face, even your body language. I am well studied in these matters. 

Zabini, let his hand fall to his side and stepped a half step closer, still leaning on the bar as he bent down to whisper in her ear. Andrea’s head swirled as she tried not to breathe in the potent scent of sweet musk that radiated from him.

“I want to let you know that it is  _ unwise _ to spend too much time around the seventh floor where we first met, unless you want to face Umbridge,” said Blaise in a gravelly whisper. “ _ But _ if you do get caught there again, for any reason…  _ I _ will vouch for you.”

Andrea tensed up at once. They must have known that she had been lying about her business on the seventh floor after all.

“And I suppose you’ll be expecting something in  _ return _ for your help,” said Andrea bitterly, glowering up at Blaise, who was still very much in her space.

“Of course not,” said Blaise sleekly, stepping back half a step. “I only ask that you consider me into your overall calculations… I could be of some help, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know you a little better. When you find yourself available again, well, I shall be close at hand.”

Before Andrea could think of what to say, Blaise lifted Andrea’s hand to his lips, kissed it softly, bowed his head slightly, then took off, pushing out of the doors of the Three Broomsticks.

“I have a  _ strong _ suspicion that old Georgie-boy would not like to have seen  _ that, _ ” chortled Roger, making Andrea jump an inch off of her bar seat before turning to find her friends staring at her with amusement and surprise.

“How much did you all hear?” asked Andrea, picking up her new firewhiskey and taking a hearty gulp.

“ _ None _ of it to be honest,” said Jamie, with the air of an over caffeinated jack russell . There was nothing Jamie loved more than fresh drama. “All that we could see was that he was all up in your  _ business _ , as it were, whispering  _ soft words _ into your ear.  _ What _ did he say? Oh, he’s trying to  _ nab _ you Andrea!”

“Er,” said Andrea, grateful that they had not heard any of the less flattering things Blaise had said about her ‘attraction’ to him. “Well, he wanted to basically extend his help if I ever ran into any trouble with the Inquisitorial Squad I think…”

“He’s not even  _ in  _ the Inquisitorial Squad!” said Eliza, voice dripping with disapproval and disdain. “He’s clearly just trying to worm his way into your  _ bed _ , Andrea.”

“I  _ know _ ,” groaned Andrea, rubbing her eyes with her palms, “He made that perfectly clear as well.”

“Are you going to let him?” said Roger casually, as he took a huge bite of the chicken sandwich that he had just ordered.

“You can’t be  _ serious _ ,” hissed Andrea, “I’m  _ still _ with George, Roger. That’s not about to change anytime soon if I have anything to do with it.”

“Right, yes, well,” said Roger seriously, “He’s not exactly  _ here _ now is he? He chose to leave! I don’t see why you didn’t break up with him for that, Andrea, honestly. Isn’t this the same stunt Oliver Wood pulled a while back? The whole ‘career first,’ ‘long distance’ rubbish? I know you two like each other a lot, but he clearly has other priorities so – ”

Eliza had swatted Roger on the arm, and he looked up at Andrea’s livid face. She was so angry with Roger that she was trembling. He had spoken her deepest insecurities out loud, as if they were already  _ so _ , and it was more than Andrea could take.

“I  _ love _ him, Roger,” said Andrea, her voice trembling somewhere between rage tears. “And he loves me. This was what was best for both of us, so  _ keep _ your opinions to yourself. Just because  _ you  _ can’t maintain a relationship for more than four weeks doesn’t mean that others aren’t capable of deeper connections!”

Roger, Jamie, and Eliza all stared, dumbstruck, at Andrea. She had never openly talked about her true feelings for George with them, so they all knew that Roger had really stepped in it this time.

“I, well, er, sorry Andrea,” stuttered Roger stupidly, “I didn’t realize…”

“ _ Clearly _ ,” snapped Andrea, clutching her whiskey glass with sweaty palms. “It was  _ your _ idea, by the way – me making a move with George.  _ You’re _ the one who convinced me that he cared about me in the first place, or I wouldn’t have risked putting George and my friendship on the line.”

There was a stony silence between the friends where only the chatter of the hubbub was heard. Andrea could hear Lee Jordan laughing brightly somewhere off to her left. She had wanted to enjoy this last Hogsmeade trip while she was a student at Hogwarts, not drown in her anxiety and doubts about George, which seemed to grow ever so slightly each day that she had not heard from him.

She could find someone attractive and yet have no desire whatsoever to act on it. That did not make her a bad person. She was lonely after all… George had never given her a reason to doubt him. He was independent, like her, and he was smart and ambitious, and she wanted very much to spend her every moment in his presence (or at least have access to him regularly – alone time was definitely still a priority.) Anyway, George and promised Andrea that he would give her the space that she needed to focus on her N.E.W.T’s and her transformation, so they had agreed on minimal contact until they had both achieved their goals. There still was a  _ lot _ George and Fred had to do to get their shop up and running in time for the rush of students during their summer holiday)

From a logical perspective, having Zabini as backup support if she were caught on the seventh floor again wasn’t  _ all _ that bad of an idea… as long as he did not get too handsy. It could be useful to have whatever alibi she invented supported by someone with at least  _ some  _ influence. On another hand, Andrea found him intimidating, at least in the sense that she found it difficult to remain composed around him. He was quiet, graceful, intense, and carried himself as though he always was a step ahead of everyone else. He certainly could not be trusted.

“How about this…” said Eliza tentatively after a few minutes. “Let’s go to Honeydukes and have some desert? It’s a nice day out, we could get some sweets and walk down to the shrieking shack.”

They all were in agreement that they could use a change of scenery, so they each paid and left the Three Broomsticks for Honeyduke’s sweetshop. Andrea did not get anything, as she feared that sticky foods could possibly dislodge the mandrake leaf from her cheek in spite of her sticking charm.

As it was, it was all she could do to hold herself back from picking at the hard leaf which was now a bit softer, but not enough to ease the discomfort by much. It was now chafing her gums faster than she could apply her essence of murtlap dilution.

Being outside did cheer her up a little bit, but Andrea was in an overall grumpy mood. She still resented Roger for poking his nose in her business, was mad at herself for enjoying the attention Blaise had given her, and she was painfully reminded of how badly she missed George as she passed by Zonko’s Joke Shop. Andrea was glad when it was time for them to hike back up to the castle for dinner and for some peace and quiet in Ravenclaw Tower.


	18. Moonlight Makings

There were only six days between Andrea and the final steps of her transformation. Her N.E.W.T.’s would start in about a fortnight… Friday would be the full moon, so Thursday night she would have to brave the Forbidden Forest to collect the teaspoon of dew needed for her potion. She would have to go deep enough inside that she was sure no human foot had tread there for seven days (according to her potion instructions), but she would have to do so very carefully, as the centaurs were still highly dangerous and the woods were always filled with numerous dangerous beasts that would gladly have Andrea as a succulent little snack. 

It was the increasingly frequent thought of being wrapped in a snug cocoon of web, hung by her ankles by some old tree devoured by an acromantula, more than anything else that pushed Andrea to break her promise not to write to George until her task was safely complete. Maybe it was a bit silly not to write to each other, but each of them had agreed that it would be best and it had somehow made sense at the time – not to mention that there were rumors that Umbridge was inspecting all mail that came and went from Hogwarts. They had determined that there was no point in worrying about each other with their problems until they had each handled their own, but Andrea was starting to change her mind. 

Andrea curled up alone in front of the fireplace in the Ravenclaw Common Room after dinner, pulled out a piece of parchment, her quill, and some ink and began to write.

_ Jaanu,  _

_ I’m sorry to bother you while you're busy – I know that you’ve got a lot to do, and I’m sure that you don’t love going to the Ministry for all of the bureaucratic aspects of setting up a business, but I just want you to know that whatever happens, I love you a lot. It’s been weird not having you here, and things are getting tougher for me on my end. Don’t worry yourself over it or anything, it’s just that everything is a lot of pressure. Also, that place you advised me to look for is perfect for what I need. Thank you so much. We’ve still got about one more month before we can see each other, so I’m hoping this feeling of missing you will die down some before then… Probably not. Anyway, I wish you the best of luck, and I’m so happy that you are living your dream.  _

_ With love, _

_ Andrea  _

Andrea rolled up her parchment and sealed it with wax before securing it snuggly around Archie’s (Roger’s owl) leg. Proudly swelling up his feathers for a moment, Archie took off out the nearest window. Andrea watched him grow fainter and fainter into the distance by the light of the waxing moon which made the landscape of the Hogwarts grounds below look like a surreal dream. 

To Andrea’s delight, Archie returned the next morning during her late Sunday morning breakfast in the Great Hall. 

“Ah, Archie’s back,” said Roger looking up from his copy of the Daily Prophet (which he still read religiously – though he did a lot more scowling while he did so these days). “I need to send my reply to the Caerphilly Catapults, saying that I can go to their tryouts in July.”

“Thanks, Roger, for letting me borrow him,” said Andrea as she untied an envelope from Archie’s scaly leg, “I didn’t know you were in a hurry to write someone or I would have found another owl…” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” said Roger as he fought with Archie to fasten Roger’s letter to his leg. 

“I think he’s  _ tired _ , Roger,” said Jamie giggling as she took a sip of her morning pumpkin juice, “He’s been out all night, you can’t expect him to want to fly out again so soon – especially not to Wales. They’re a Welsh team aren’t they?”

“Yes, well,” said Roger, grabbing ahold of Archie’s ankle as the bird flapped frantically in resistance, “I’m sort of in a hurry so I’m going to need him to – OUCH!

Archie had bitten Roger’s knuckle ferociously, leaving a small pool of blood, before shooting Roger a very nasty look and flying off towards the owlery for some sleep. Jamie and Eliza exchanged an amused glance, and Eliza bit back a smile while shaking her head in mild disapproval. 

“ _ Damned _ , bird,” said Roger, dabbing his wound with a nearby napkin, “I suppose I’ll have to run up to the owlery to send this now…”

“I can take it for you, Roger,” said Andrea, secretly hoping to read her letter away from prying eyes, “It’s my fault that Archie is so tired. Let me.”

“Alright then,” said Roger, shrugging but clearly pleased, and handed over his letter to Andrea, “But hop to it, if you don’t mind, I’m running a bit late on this and I’ve got Quidditch practice in a bit.” 

“Okay then,” said Andrea, tucking his letter into her bag and pushing away her empty plate, “I’ll see you all later, then.”

“Are we still on for exploding snap this evening?” said Jamie, “I’ve got a new set that I’m  _ dying _ to try – ”

“Don’t you think we’d better study for N.E.W.T.’s?” asked Eliza coolly, “They’ll be here before you know it and Roger has Quidditch practice on top of that, so I doubt he’ll want to play.”

“We’ve  _ all _ been studying for N.E.W.T.’s all  _ year _ ,” whined Jamie, “If we don’t know our stuff by  _ now _ , we never will!”

“Hm,” said Eliza thoughtfully, “I suppose that’s a fair enough point. Alright, I’m in, but only after at least an hour of studying!”

“We’ll see…” said Andrea, doubting very much that she would have any time to spare at all this evening.

“She’s got to  _ go _ ,” said Roger impatiently to the girls, “Right, Andrea? This is  _ time  _ sensitive, as I said earlier.” 

“Okay, aright, bye guys,” said Andrea, grateful to have a way out of the conversation she was being sucked into. 

Andrea strode along, up many stairs and through a long corridor until she finally reached the owlery – a tower full of hundreds of owls perched along shelves and in its glass-less windows. The room had the distinct smell of moist straw and bird droppings, but Andrea plowed through, nonetheless, to select an owl sturdy enough for a long distance trip for Roger. 

Andrea chose a barn owl that was sitting nearby, fastened Rogers letter, and sent him off on his long journey. Eager to remove herself from the ripe-smelling tower, Andrea wasted no time leaving. She descended the stairs and sat herself on a bench by a window in a niche at the end of the corridor to read George’s letter.

_ Hey there Lovely, _

_ I’ve been crazy to write you ever since we left, but I figured I should respect our agreement and leave you to your work. Also, Fred and I have been working here at the shop and trying to figure out all the legal stuff we need to make this work without having anyone from the good ol’ Ministry come down here to tear up our establishment. We’ve been in and out all day every day for the most part. No time for anything except eating and sleeping, but we’re almost done and things are slowing down. I actually was thinking of sending you a little note sometime this week anyway. I miss you a lot too, darling. I’m trying not to worry about you to be honest, but I know everything will be fine! I just hate to think that you’re cooped up with that old toad on your own. Good luck on your N.E.W.T.’s and your other… business, if you know what I mean. I can’t wait to see you again, and I think you’re going to really like how the shop looks now! Send Filch my regards, won’t you? I’m sure he’s missing us pretty badly too. I’ll be the first to pick you up from the station when you come home. Stay safe. _

_ – George  _

While it warmed Andrea’s heart to hear from George and to see his familiar scrawl, that made her imagine his hand scratching his quill across this very parchment, she felt a fresh new pang of longing. She was fairly confident in her ability to make her transformation. After all, she had prepared for this for years under the supervision of Professor McGonagall, and she had her Felix Felicis potion to help her with the right conditions for the transformation. She still couldn’t help feeling nervous.

The transformation was a serious change. It was also a major risk. She also had her N.E.W.T.’s coming up after next weekend, so she had to have a bit of luck. She had  _ made _ some luck though, but only time would tell if it would be enough. She really would rather not have to make her transformation during the days that she would be taking her exams, which she did feel like she was as prepared for as she would ever be – as Jamie put it. 

Andrea looked out of the window onto the grounds. The weather was fair, a little cloudy yet the late morning sun peeked through in some places, and she had a pretty good view of the Quidditch pitch far below. She could just make out the blue of the Ravenclaw team’s uniforms from where she was, but she wasn’t certain of which one was Roger from this distance. 

After a moment, Andrea decided that the weather was too nice to stay inside, so she grabbed her bag and walked back down the long corridor to the Grand Staircase, turned a corner, and nearly walked face-first into Blaise Zabini. 

She skidded to a halt about half a foot from Blaise, who had a letter of his own in his hand and halted suddenly before her. He shook himself, seeming to come out of some train of thought before realizing what (or who) had gotten in his way.

“Good morning, Ms. Andrea,” said Blaise, raising an eyebrow and surveying Andrea with mild surprise, “I’m pleased to meet you again so soon…”

“Er, hi,” said Andrea awkwardly, moving to her left so that Blaise could pass, but instead of walking on, he remained where he was, watching her with the slightest trace of amusement on his lips. Andrea had expected him to say something, but he didn’t. He just stood there, observing her as if she were some kind of intriguing new specimen in Professor Sprout’s greenhouse.

“Erm, I’m just going to go, then,” said Andrea, at which Andrea was sure that Blaise was definitely smirking amusedly at something. 

“ _ What _ is so funny?” said Andrea, bitingly, stopping in her tracks in spite of herself. She did not appreciate being laughed at in the slightest, least of all by someone who clearly thought himself incredibly superior. 

“Nothing whatsoever, Ms. Andrea,” said Blaise coolly, “I was merely observing.”

“You were laughing at me,” said Andrea, putting her fist on a hip, letting her annoyance burn away any insecurity that might have otherwise been creeping up. “And also, you don’t have to keep calling me  _ Ms _ . Andrea.”

“Alright,” said Blaise thoughtfully, taking a step in her direction, “Just Andrea, I suppose.  _ Andrea _ , I was truly not laughing at you. I was merely recalling something that I read the other day that you reminded me of.”

“I see,” said Andrea challengingly, trying desperately to find something to be angry with him about. She wondered if he was going to make a jab about her being clumsy or careless because of their near collision. That would not be wise on his part. “And what was  _ that _ ?” 

“Well,” said Blaise, meandering a bit closer with his hands in his pockets and looking down shrewdly at Andrea, “I was reading  _ The Decline of Pagan Magic  _ by Bathilda Bagshot, and I came across a rather intriguing concept: the more often something (or  _ someone _ – in fact) comes to mind, the more frequently the thinker will encounter that subject.

Blaise did not elaborate right away, but Andrea took his meaning well enough. He simply stood there, content to watch the effect of his words on Andrea as she absorbed their weight. Andrea had to admit to herself, that was not the answer she had been expecting. Had she known, she certainly would not have asked. Andrea thought perhaps she should walk away before she found herself further tangled in Blaise’s web, but as she started to turn away, Blaise continued.

“I did find it rather  _ amusing _ that this concept was demonstrated me so quickly after reading it – which is, in fact, two examples in one,” said Blaise, pacing slowly before her. “I have encountered this notion, itself, more frequently since I first read about it. Furthermore, I have run in to  _ you _ several times recently.”

He stopped his pacing and fully faced her, as if she hoped that she would ask him more. It was all too clear what he meant, and Andrea did not think that his remarks were very clever – he meant to say that he had been thinking about  _ her _ lately. Good for him. Andrea stared up at him, somewhat defiantly, and folded her arms across her chest. 

“Well, I don’t know anything about ‘the decline of Pagan magic’…” said Andrea with an edge to her voice, trying to sway the topic away from herself. “Maybe that’s the case here in Britain, but that sounds like a load of rubbish if you ask me. I still put plenty of stock in pagan magic.”

Her grandmother, in fact, taught her much magic that was integrated with Hinduism – it might not be the paganism that most were used to in this country, but in other parts of the world it was very well known. With her eyes, Andrea dared him to contradict her. She had a mouthful for him that she was ready to release at any moment.

“Indeed,” said Blaise in a low chuckle, “I quite agree, in fact. It has not declined in Britain nearly as much as the old Ms. Bagshot seems to think… I should know.” 

“Oh… well, alright then,” said Andrea, trying her best to ignore the jitters in the pit of her stomach that came on when he stared at her like that. This conversation had gone on far too long, and she was starting to feel like she had miscalculated somewhere. “Sorry to jump to conclusions, I guess… I’m going to go now.” 

“Alright, see you soon, Andrea,” said Blaise with a sly smirk, and a small bow of his head as Andrea swiftly turned on her heel to finally head down the corridor. 

Andrea had only walked a few paces when she noticed something small, red, and rectangular bouncing across the stone floor before teetering to a stop at the base of a nearby pillar. It was a revealer (a magical item which could expose some hidden writing when rubbed upon its surface). 

It had come from the direction where she had just been talking with Blaise, so she dashed over and picked it up. She held the soft revealer between her fingers and noticed that an intricate snake had been carved into one of its sides. It must have been Blaise’s. 

Andrea turned back around and rounded the corner that lead to the owlery after Blaise. As she approached him from behind, she noticed that his shoulder bag had a small tear at the bottom corner; though it hardly seemed large enough for the revealer to have escaped from.

“Hey, Blaise,” called Andrea, causing him to pause and slowly turn back around to face her. “You dropped something… Here, take it.”

Andrea did not want to give Blaise any reason to go looking for her in the future – especially if he somehow knew that she had it – so she stopped in front of him and held out the revealer so that the serpent was clearly visible to him.

“Ah,” said Blaise, with a small glint in his eye that gave Andrea the distinct impression that he might have lost his revealer intentionally, “Thank you, Andrea… That’s very kind of you.” 

He stepped needlessly closer to Andrea; they were already about a foot and a half apart, but he was now so close that they could balance a quill, lengthwise, between them. As he reached for the revealer, he also took Andrea’s whole hand in his as he slid it from her grip and into his own.

“Sure…” said Andrea, as she quickly backed away from him, turned on her heel once more and stalked off without further ado. 

Much to Andrea’s annoyance on Monday, walking out of Professor Snape’s classroom, Andrea passed Zabini in the dungeon’s corridor and unintentionally met his eye – which, despite his lack of comment, Andrea could tell from his smug smirk that he was rather pleased about it. 

She saw him again after break, that day and the next, and before Transfiguration on Tuesday. She was sure that he had always been around, but Andrea hadn’t really paid much attention to his existence in the past.

After the first accidental moment of eye-contact, Andrea made an effort to look anywhere but him if she noticed him traipsing about. She certainly did not want him to get any unwarranted ideas. Luckily, he did not show any signs of speaking with her again, so Andrea easily pushed their several awkward encounters from her mind as she mentally prepared for Thursday’s excursion to the Forbidden Forest. 

There was no way she would dare enter the forest at night, so she planned on slyly scooting in behind Hagrid’s hut early before breakfast. She was not likely to be noticed at that time of day, as long as Hagrid wasn’t looking out of his window… The trouble was that she had to delve deep enough into the woods so that she was certain that no one had walked there for at least a week, but it needed to be an open enough area for dew to settle. 

Andrea tried her best to appear completely natural, faking a yawn, as she quietly slipped straight passed the doors of the Great Hall and out of the front door into the chilly morning air. It was only about six in the morning, so most students were still up in their dormitories getting ready for the day.

Andrea crossed the dewy grass as quickly as she could, fearing all the while that someone would spot her dashing around suspiciously from the tall windows of the great castle behind her. With a quick glance backwards, Andrea slunk around the back of Hagrid’s little cabin.

She could hear him moving about within, the aged wood floors creaking and groaning under the weight of his enormous feet and his low voice rumbling as he muttered to himself. The sun still had not quite peaked over the mountains beyond the lake, so Andrea still had some shelter in the shadows of the dim morning light. 

In the near silence of the dawn, Andrea could hear her heart beating so loudly that she almost feared that it was audible through the thin panes of glass of the window of Hagrid’s cabin which was directly above her head. 

Andrea swallowed hard and fixed her eyes in a dark space between two large trees in the forest before her. The longer she dawdled, the less time she would have, and the sun would rise soon, so her chances of being spotted lurking about increased by the second. 

Drawing a great breath that filled up her lungs with crisp, grassy air, Andrea mustered all of her courage and bolted at full speed towards the forest edge. It was a short dash, but Andrea’s fear of being spotted seemed to slow down time. 

Once she reached the cover of the trees, Andrea caught her breath behind a thick tree trunk. One hurdle down, but now the real dangers were ahead of her. The pale morning light did not even reach the thinnest parts of the forest apparently, as it was so dark before her that Andrea nearly tripped on a root as she crept forward.

Andrea pulled her wand out of her pocket and whispered, “ _ Lumos. _ ” Her wand faintly illuminated a natural path which wound between the thick, silent trees along the forest edge. 

She had decided beforehand that the safest course of action was to creep around the perimeter of the forest, only about a meter in, all the way to the furthest outcrop that could only be accessed by the Black Lake. That way, she would be hidden by the trees, but could make a run for it if something came snapping out of the bramble at her. 

Andrea’s feet thudded hollowly on the dense forest floor as she moved stealthily through the trees. The air was close, thick with the scent of evergreen, decaying shrubbery, and leaves, and it was quiet.  _ Too _ quiet. Despite her efforts to tread lightly, her feet were the loudest sound around.

Occasionally, Andrea would pause, listening hard. Her necked prickled. She was sure that she was being watched, but anytime she thought she heard the snapping of twigs somewhere far off, nothing greeted her but silence or the occasional distant hoot of an owl.

Andrea crossed a number of foot paths (whether made by man or beast, Andrea could not tell), but finally, Andrea found a patch of moss at the base of a tree far away from any obvious foot traffic. Moss meant moisture, so Andrea squatted down next to the great trunk, pulling out a phial and silver spoon from her bag. 

Sure enough, the slightest film of dew glistened on the fluffy surface of the moss. Andrea gently slid her silver spoon along the moss, watching it slowly fill – a quarter full, halfway, then just she scraped the spoon along the last strip of moister left on her moss clump, the spoon was full. 

Steadying her hand as best she could, she carefully tipped the silvery dew into a phial and snapped it securely shut. She slipped it into her bag, stood up, and quickly headed back the way she had come. She had no desire to linger there any further. 

The trip back seemed to take longer than her initial trek out, and the feeling of being watched was amplified each time she stepped on a crunchy twig or clump of leaves. She couldn’t believe that she was almost ready for her transformation. As soon as she was out of the woods, she could slip up to the common room before class and stow her phial in her trunk.

The phial… Andrea’s heart hammered as she frantically reached for her bag. Andrea was sure that she had put it inside, but she had to check, just in case. She felt around in her bag… Quill, inkwell, notebook, something with a wrapper… gum? With a pang of relief, Andrea’s hand wrapped around the thick, conical phial. 

Before she could register what had happened, Andrea was falling forward, and she landed hard on the gnarled, root-filled earth. The toe of her boot had caught on a root while she was focusing on her bag. Andrea scrambled to her feet, and glanced nervously around her. 

She stood perfectly still, listening hard. Her blood rand cold and she could feel goosebumps forming all across her skin. After several painfully alert moments, Andrea was just about to shake herself and move on when she heard the loud, slow crunching of heavy feet on leaves not far away. 

Andrea did not wait to find out what was coming; she ran as fast as her legs would take her out of the Dark Forest onto the sandy bank of the Black Lake. The sun was peeking over the Eastern hills and was glistening on the lake’s smooth surface. Panting hard, Andrea squinted behind her. 

Andrea was fairly certain that she could see a dark, shirtless figure standing in the shadows, just beyond her range of clear vision, but when she blinked it was gone. It must have been a centaur… At least Andrea hoped. It could easily have been something far worse. 

Andrea crunched across the bank for a short distance before making her way up a grassy slope, not far from the Whomping Willow, towards the castle. The trip into the forest had turned out to be nearly as frightening as she had imagined (minus the spiders of course), and her adrenaline rush had left her exhausted and weary. 

Luckily, her presence on the grounds wasn’t suspicious at this hour, especially now that she was out from under the shadow of the Forbidden Forest, so she trudged back into the castle by seven thirty. Andrea slipped into the Great Hall to grab some toast and coffee before running back up to her dormitory to stow her dew until after tomorrow evening. Then she would spit her now softened mandrake leaf into her special crystal phial and soak it in the light of the full moon. 

She did not join her friends midway down the table; she could see Roger and Jamie joking about something as Eliza giggled next to Jamie. Instead, she took her food with her and ate while she walked. Andrea felt a stab of loneliness at the sight of them. 

Andrea wished she could confide in someone about her fright in the forest, but she could not do so without revealing her plan to them. Little did she know, that she would get more than her fill of her friends by lunchtime the next day – particularly of Roger.

“Today is the  _ day _ ,” said Roger for the fourth time since they had sat down. “I really think we’ve got Gryffindor this time. Imagine the Tornados recruiter’s reaction if we won the Quidditch House Cup? It would –  _ will  _ be brilliant!”

“You know what, Roger?” giggled Eliza with a glint of mischief in her eyes, “I always got good marks back when I took Divination. Maybe I could tell you what will happen! Give me your hand – I’m going to read your palm!”

“No!” said Roger, yanking his hand from Eliza’s grasp as if her touch had burned him, “I’m not going to let that charlatan drivel distract me from my game!”

“Hmf,” said Eliza, failing to conceal her glee with a pout, “Fine then.”

“Oh, do  _ me _ , Eliza!” said Jamie from the seat next to Eliza, bouncing up and down on the spot and thrusting out her outstretched palm at her.

“Alright, then,” said Eliza giggling, pushing her glasses up the brim of her nose, and taking Jamie’s hand in hers before carefully surveying its creases with her index finger. “Hmmm you’ve got a long life line – that’s nice! Uh oh, your wealth line makes me think that your career choice won’t be very lucrative… Your heart line is curved, meaning that you are a sensitive person… Let’s see…”

“What about my love line, Eliza?” said Jamie, who was gazing at Eliza with the most peculiar expression. 

Andrea couldn’t help but pry her attention from her tart to watch this. Jamie glanced briefly at Andrea raising an eyebrow with a hint of a smirk before looking back down at Eliza, who was hunched over Jamie’s hand concentrating on its lines. 

“Hm… well, let’s see,” said Eliza, tracing a finger across Jamie’s palm, but as Eliza’s finger reached Jamie’s love line, Jamie closed her hand tightly around Eliza’s. 

Eliza stared down at their clasped hands for a moment, clearly quite confused, then tentatively looked up at Jamie, who smiled warmly but nervously down at Eliza.

“Er,” said Eliza, turning very pink, “I don’t understand… I thought you wanted me to read your… love line.” 

“You don’t get it?” said Jamie, clearly mustering up some bravery as she sat up a little straighter and squared her shoulders, “What about now?”

Still gripping Eliza’s hand in hers, Jamie leaned forward and quickly kissed Eliza square on the lips before pulling away so that the kiss might go unnoticed by professors. 

“Jamie!” stuttered Eliza breathlessly after a moment of gaping with shock, “Oh… I… Oh… Wow, Jamie, I never… I mean well…” 

Eliza stopped trying to speak and simply beamed shyly at Jamie, still pink to the neck. Jamie, too, was beaming, but she looked far from embarrassed – she looked elated. 

Andrea shot a glance at Roger, who was so engrossed pressuring his teammates about this evening’s match that he had missed the entire exchange. 

“Want to go somewhere else to talk?” said Jamie, hopefully.

“Yes.  _ Yes _ , I’d like that…” said Eliza, standing up and clearly struggling with her composure still. 

“See you soon, Andrea,” said Jamie with an enormous smile and a wave as the pair hurried out of the Great Hall. 

She had to hand it to Jamie, that was a pretty smooth move – and a brave one at that, and Andrea had not expected it in the least. Well, that meant that she would have less explaining to do about her whereabouts tonight when she planned on sneaking off. They were sure to have plenty that they would want to discuss – unaccompanied. 

The plan was perfect. While everyone was watching the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw this evening, Andrea would sneak up to the Room of Requirement, put her mandrake leaf in the full moon light, and spend the night there so she could add the rest of the ingredients as soon as the moon went down. What was more, the next day was Saturday, which meant that she had no obligations and her absence would be less noticeable.

Right after a particularly strenuous Arithmancy review for their N.E.W.T.’s, which started the week after next, Andrea ate a rushed dinner and dashed up to her dormitory to collect her phial of dew, another phial with a dose of Felix Felicis, the crystal phial for the mandrake leaf, and the box of the other ingredients needed for the transformation potion. 

The rest of the school was bubbling with excitement as they prepared to go down to the Quidditch Pitch for the final game of the season. Andrea, however, made her way up to the seventh floor corridor in record time in spite of having Hugin swaying about on her shoulder all the way there. 

After pacing in front of the wall near the troll tapestry, as she had done before, the door appeared once more in the wall before her and she quickly slipped inside. Andrea made herself at home in the large comfortable room, setting her ingredients onto a pedestal that had appeared in the center of the room, atop the rug, straight under the center of the glass dome above. 

The indigo sky above was sparsely streaked with stratus clouds which were tinged amber by the light of the setting sun. The full moon was already faintly visible peeking just above the horizon in one of the arched windows that surrounded the room.

Andrea was fairly confident that she would have no shortage of moonlight tonight, and she was itching to remove the mandrake leaf from her mouth. She did not  _ have _ to let her leaf soak in the light of a full moon in particular. A moon of any phase would do as long as there was light, but a full moon greatly improved her chances of uninterrupted illumination.

Andrea snuggled into the low bed, that was on one side of the lofty, circular room, cuddling with Hugin as she waited as patiently as she could for the sun to go down. Finally, the room around her was dark, save for the bright white light from the full moon which now illuminated the room, casting stark shadows from the candelabras that dotted the space. 

Andrea set Hugin atop a pile of books, retrieved the empty crystal phial, and stood directly under the glass dome to gaze at the moon which shone brightly above her. Andrea really hoped that she would transform into a raven. She had always thought she would, as she had a close affinity with her bird. But what if she  _ didn’t? _

What if she turned into a great fish and died from lack of air? Andrea pushed this thought from her mind and pulled out her wand, carefully reversed the sticking spell, and pressed the phial to her lips. 

With immense relief, she pushed the leaf out of her mouth directly into the phial with her tongue, snapped it shut, and placed it onto the moonlit pedestal. Now all there was to do was to wait.

Her cheek felt incredibly raw and tender (where the leaf had been plastered for the past twenty-eight days), as she rubbed the spot gingerly with her tongue. 

After checking the vial’s positioning several times (mainly out of paranoia that it somehow would not work), Andrea flung herself onto the comfortable mattress. She didn’t bother lighting any of the candles, as the room was already bright enough by the light of the moon, and she felt comforted knowing that the moonlight was strong enough to hit her mandrake leaf from all angles.

Andrea laid back, watching the stars and moon above. She could occasionally see bats fly over. It was quite peaceful, but Andrea had the feeling that she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while. She was at a cusp of a great change. 

A change in herself (physically, emotionally, and perhaps even spiritually) but also a change in her life. Her time as a Hogwarts student was coming to an end. She had primarily lived here for seven years. She had grown up in this magical place. It had shaped her into the person that she was today. She had met her love here… 

She had also learned so much, and now this first transformation would be her last great feat at this school… at least as a student. It marked the end of an era, and the start of something great and unknown. 

Taking her N.E.W.T.’s would seem like nothing to Andrea after this, and then she would go home and move her family to the country where they would be safe from the dark forces that were steadily, silently growing – perhaps at that very instant. 

With that thought, Andrea turned over, punched a pillow into a puff, closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep. Her dreams were surprisingly sweet in spite of the enormous weight of what she was trying to do. She was back in Hogsmeade with George, hiding on a rooftop by his side as he pelted dungbombs at unsuspecting pedestrians below. 

His laugh warmed her. She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, but he was cold and odd-feeling. Suddenly, Andrea woke to discover that she was holding a blue feather pillow against her chest. 

The sun was up, but the room was still dim. Andrea looked over at Hugin, who flapped over to her shoulder when he noticed that she was awake. Andrea abruptly remembered where she was and why she was there. 

The sky above was dark and grey – a complete carpet of clouds obscured the sun. Andrea rushed over to the phial, checking her watch. It was already eight in the morning. Andrea’s stomach did a nauseating flip and her heart sank. 

How long had these clouds been out? What if the leaf wasn’t exposed long enough? If she tried adding the dew and the chrysalis and the potion was a dud, she would not only have to start the process over again, but she would have to replace the ingredients (which were not so easy to come by). 

Andrea dropped down onto the rug, tugging at its long fibers. If her potion didn’t work, she would be beyond disappointed. For several minutes, Andrea sat in silence, her head throbbing from stress. She was terrified, but if she didn’t at least  _ try _ , there would  _ definitely _ not be a transformation today. 

Andrea leapt to her feet. She would do it. She had to and she could not let her doubts get in the way. Andrea went over to the trunk, where she had left her belongings, and pulled out her phial of ‘liquid luck.’ 

Hesitating for only a moment, Andrea uncorked it and poured its contents into her mouth. It went down warm, sweet, and with a sharpness. The results were instantaneous. 

Andrea suddenly  _ knew _ that this would work. She felt incredibly calm and relaxed as she gathered up her dew and chrysalis and marched over to her crystal phial containing the mandrake leaf. She popped in the chrysalis, then yanked a hair from her wavy head and stuffed it inside with her wand. 

Finally, Andrea carefully poured the dew into the phial. With a hiss, all of the contents of the phial dissolved into a crystal clear liquid. It had worked. As Andrea quickly stowed the potion in the dark chest, she became conscious of a sound;  _ Tap. Tap, tap. Tap, pap, tap-tap.  _

Andrea looked up at the glass dome ceiling above her. It was starting to rain, and the sky above was a dark, blue-grey. 

“It’s raining, Hugin,” said Andrea, beaming at her bird, who stared back intelligently at her. “What luck! Maybe I won’t have to wait long for my potion to be ready after all!”

Hugin fluttered over to the trunk, where her potion awaited the first clap of lightning to become mature, and hopped around its top, as if he was checking its integrity. The rain was coming down in sheets, filling the glass room with gentle white noise. Andrea was electric with excitement and anticipation. Any moment now, it could happen.

Hugin tapped the trunk with his beak – once, twice, and three times.  _ Crack! _ The dark clouds above them were veined with powerful white streaks of light. Andrea silently blessed Professor Snape for assigning the Felix Felicis project. 

Even if he had not believed that any of his students were capable of brewing it, she  _ had _ and it seemed that had saved her – and might continue to help her… 

Andrea hurried over to the trunk, which Hugin hopped off to the floor beside her as she approached, and opened it. The phial, which had before appeared completely empty because of the clear liquid within, now appeared to be filled with thick, crimson blood. 

“This is it,” whispered Andrea to Hugin, who croaked softly back in response, “It’s done…” 

In spite of the relaxed state induced by the Felix Felicis, Andrea felt a surge of butterflies dancing in the pit of her stomach. She sat squarely on the carpet, phial in one hand, wand in the other. There was no sense in waiting for the effects of her liquid luck to wear off before taking the potion.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She felt Hugin land on her shoulder, and settle into her neck. She popped the top of the crystal phial with a thumb, eyes still closed, and slowly lifted her wand to press its tip to her heart. 

“ _ Amato Animo Animato Animagus, _ ” said Andrea in a clear loud voice, that somehow did not quite sound like her own. Without missing a beat, Andrea raised the phial to her lips and poured the thick liquid into her mouth and swallowed hard. No going back now. 

Andrea felt the potion slide down her throat like hot curry. Sweat poured freely from every pore as the potion burned her insides – her heart racing in double time. Her throat was closing. She could hardly breathe – not enough air! Everything burned.

Andrea heard herself scream and Hugin squawking frantically somewhere far away. This had to be a dream. Her mind was turning, splitting into two, three, four whirl pools to which her consciousness slowly trickled down. 

From the darkness behind her closed lids, Andrea could see sparks of color, as if nebulas were painted there; spinning, flashing, and flickering. Andrea lost all sense of time and reality. She could not feel the pain anymore – just nothingness.

Had she died? She did not know. Nor did she care. She just  _ was _ . She watched the universe spin about before her eyes; clouds of pink, sparks of blue, waves of green, pools of amber all pulsated and swirled before her. 

She watched as a small group of silvery stars twinkling happily at her, shifting position pulsing into all types of geometric patterns. They were blinking faster. And faster. They were beautiful. They reminded her of something. 

Suddenly, Andrea saw it, it was a bird. Her bird. Her Hugin flashed in front her from the darkness like a great constellation of George’s sparklers. It was all she could see, but for the first time, she was filled with immeasurable joy. 

She was remembering who she was; she loved Hugin. She loved George. She had a mother, a father, a sister… Where were they? Where was she? She wasn’t dead… she was alive and could feel. Andrea slowly became aware of her body.

Her fingers were burning. Her skin felt like it was stuck with millions of electric needles, and her throat felt like it was tearing – bleeding – as she heard herself let out a final cry of agony. She could hear the change. There was a sick tearing sound, and her cry changed from the scream of a woman to a strange cawing screech. 

Suddenly remembering her purpose, Andrea focused hard on the memory of the raven vision she had seen in her mind’s eye, as she felt her body stretching as if she were being sucked down the eye of a hurricane into a tiny vessel. 

Everything stopped. Eyes still tightly shut, she was at once aware that Hugin was squawking uncontrollably about her. He bumped into her, almost knocking her over. Almost  _ knocking her over _ ?

Andrea opened her eyes, and was suddenly flooded with shock. Hugin was hopping around her, but she was seeing eye to eye with him. In fact, she had to tilt her head to one side to see him properly, and soon she realized that all of the furniture was now at least ten times as large as it had been when she had started. 

She felt normal – well, mostly. At least she didn’t hurt. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She could move. She stretched out her hand, looking back to find that it was not a hand, but a jet black wing. She had done it. 

Andrea took a few moments to try and clear her mind completely. She really did not want to panic. This was what she wanted. This was  _ normal _ . McGonagall had done it, and she could turn back into a human whenever she wanted. The change wasn’t permanent. She was safe. It was alright. 

“ _ It’s me, Hugin, _ ” Andrea had meant to say, but instead a soft croaking came from Andrea’s mouth. Nevertheless, Hugin seemed to understand. He hopped closer to Andrea, and tapped his beak affectionately against hers and gazed into her eye with his beady black eye. 

After a long while, Andrea decided it was time to see herself. By the bed sat a long dressing mirror on the floor. She was sure that she could fly, but she wasn’t quite ready to test that out yet. She had to  _ see _ first. Andrea, somewhat clumsily, hopped around the gigantic bed and over to the mirror, where she saw two black birds approaching. 

Andrea stopped in front of the lofty mirror, which seemed to go on forever above her and looked at herself. She was a raven. A shiny black raven with scaley black legs and a long black beak. Her eyes, however, did not look like Hugin’s.

They were still round birdy-eyes, but they were Andrea’s exact shade of amber with a burst of green in the center. Andrea was in awe, but this new realtiy was all starting to be too much for her to bear. It felt like a dream, maybe even a nightmare. She needed to be herself again. 

No sooner had Andrea thought those words, did she feel herself tipping forward with a strong lurching sensation in her gut, as if she were leaning off a very tall building, and she suddenly fell against the floor in a heap – very much human once more. 

Andrea lay flat on her face next to the bed for several minutes, trembling all over, while Hugin hopped all about her back as if he too was relieved that she was back to her normal self. She was soaked with sweat. 

After a while, Andrea peeked back up at herself in the mirror from the floor. She appeared as normal as ever, although she looked like she had been rolled down a mountainside. She was incredibly pale and her lips had lost nearly all of their color. 

“Ugh, Hugin,” groaned Andrea, “That was  _ awful _ .” 

Andrea stood up, with some difficulty as she was feeling weaker than she had ever remembered feeling in her life, and stripped off her sweat-drenched robes and collapsed, naked onto the bed. She felt like she had just climbed out of the Black Lake in January. 

As if the room had read her mind Andrea felt a thick fur blanket pressing against her right leg. She reached down and disappeared under it, slipping into a dreamless sleep. 

When Andrea awoke, it was late afternoon, and her belly was aching with hunger. The rainclouds had passed and the sun was shining brightly through the windows. 

“Hey, Hugin,” said Andrea, looking around for Hugin who was sitting on the windowsill adjacent to the bed. “I know you aren’t an owl, but I’ve never asked you for anything like this before, so you _ know _ I need it… Can you get me some food? Anything? I’m hungry and I don’t have it in me to get up.”

Hugin croaked quietly and hopped on the spot several times. Andrea hoped that meant yes. She pushed the window open and Hugin flew out into the fresh spring air. 

Andrea had _done_ it. _Actually_ done it. She could hardly believe it. It was even more taxing than she had anticipated, but she knew well enough that it was worth it. She would never have to go through that again. 

She was very glad that she hadn’t allowed anyone to stay with her through that process. They likely would not have been able to handle seeing her like that. Andrea doubted very much that she would want to watch anyone else go through the transformation either. 

More quickly than Andrea had expected, Hugin had returned with someone’s half eaten sandwich in his beak ( which he had doubtlessly stolen it from someone picnicking by the Black Lake). He dropped it on Andrea’s lap, looking quite proud of his catch.

“Thanks, love,” said Andrea, sitting up in the bed and scarfing down the sandwich as fast as she could. It hit her sore, empty stomach painfully but satisfyingly. 

The sandwich definitely boosted Andrea’s morale, so for the first time since her transformation, Andrea surveyed the room. It was a bit of a mess; the pedestal on the shag rug, in front of where Andrea had been sitting, was knocked over, the pillows that she had surrounded herself with were all askew, and the silky throw-blanket that Andrea had been using was blemished by a large dark spot where Andrea’s sweat had seeped through.

As the weight of her actions descended upon her, Andrea slowly began feeling excited and incredibly accomplished. She would need the rest of the weekend to rest, but her mind raced at the thought that soon she could be  _ flying _ . She couldn’t wait to tell Professor McGonagall… and George! 

Andrea closed her eyes and smiled at the memory of him. He would be so impressed. Probably even  _ proud _ of her. She wished she could lie against his chest and sleep off the heavy feeling that still clung to her from the event. 

Suddenly, Andrea was hit by a strong second wind, and leaped out of bed. She needed to get out of this room. She needed fresh air. 

Andrea slipped her wet robes back on, tied her messy hair in a knot at the top of her head, grabbed her bag, called for Hugin, and dashed out of the Room of Requirement without a backwards glance. 

She probably looked like a terrible mess, and passersby’s were certainly staring, but Andrea didn’t care. It was refreshing to walk about the sunny corridors of the castle. She would take a nice, hot shower, have some food in the kitchens, then go out to the lake to watch the sun go down. 

This was a new beginning for her. A new, stronger, braver, happier Andrea. She felt certain of it, as she walked out onto the seventh floor landing to gaze out at the many moving stairs of the Grand Staircase, the students, the ghosts, and the hundreds of babbling portraits below. She had overcome many great hurdles to get here, and she felt confident that now she had the tools and the confidence to take down whatever problems the world threw her way. 


	19. The Dark Lord's Return

Several days later, Andrea was finally starting to feel more adjusted to transforming at will. It wasn’t at all that difficult anymore – transforming had become just as simple as it was slipping back into her human state after her first transformation. What had not been so easy, on the other hand, was flying.

On her first attempt, she had crept up to the astronomy tower one evening when she was supposed to be in bed, but she crashed into a beam and crumpled in a heap dangerously close to the edge of the castle parapet. All other attempts had been pitifully futile; however, Andrea was not too concerned. The hard work was done. Now all she had to do was get some practice in.

After a number of failed attempts, that had left Andrea quite bruised, she decided that she would wait until after leaving Hogwarts to practice at her grandparents’ country home. Open spaces seemed like a much better place to learn to fly, and it was too risky to attempt at Hogwarts.

Instead, Andrea decided to dedicate her attention to finalizing her preparation for her N.E.W.T.’s and enjoying her remaining few weeks at Hogwarts with her friends.

Jamie and Eliza had been particularly chipper the past few days since their little kiss. They still had not revealed any changes in their current relationship to Andrea or Roger – Andrea suspected this was because Roger had been in a positively horrid mood ever since the Quidditch match that Andrea missed last Friday.

The four friends sat out on the soft, late-spring grass, atop a large quilt that Eliza had brought out for them, to study for N.E.W.T.’s. Most professors, apart from Snape and McGonagall, canceled classes for their N.E.W.T. students, remaining available during class times to answer questions, to give seventh-years extra time to prepare for exams the next week.

The weather was warm and balmy, so Andrea was more than happy to lie back on the soft quilt, reviewing her Charm’s notes as Eliza and Jamie sportingly quizzed each other on History of Magic.

“Do you want to review any spells for Charm’s with me, Roger?” asked Andrea, peeking over at Roger who was grumbling to himself (as he often did, lately) and was focused on yanking individual strands of grass from the earth.

“Not right, now…” said Roger glumly, “I’m thinking.”

“About what?” Andrea asked.

“What do you _think?_ ” snapped Roger, “ Ah, right! You weren’t _there_ to see!”

He made it almost sound like it was _her_ fault somehow that Ravenclaw had lost the Quidditch House Cup to Gryffindor.

“Roger, I’m s – ” started Andrea.

“I don’t know _where_ it came from!” Roger burst out, “He had been playing so poorly up until then – Ron Weasley, but he just… and then Ginny got the snitch! We didn’t have _time_ to carry out my plan! It’s not _my_ fault! And now the Tornado’s recruiter said he needed ‘time to deliberate’! I’m ruined!”

“Nobody expected it Roger,” said Andrea, placing a hand on his shoulder, “And nobody _blames_ you! Just because Ravenclaw lost doesn’t mean that you played poorly! And as you’ve said, there are other teams that are interested in you. It’s going to be okay. You need to relax and focus on your exams.”

“I’m _ready_ for my exams,” grumbled Roger.

Jamie and Eliza had apparently turned their attention to Andrea and Roger, and had scooted a bit closer to listen.

“Andrea, why _were_ you not at the game?” asked Eliza, “We didn’t see you at all Saturday either. We started to worry…”

Andrea had considered telling them before, but it the fewer people who knew about her transformation the better. However, they _were_ her closest friends for the past seven years at Hogwarts. She knew she could trust them, and she somehow felt that it was their right to know now that the transformation was complete.

“I…” said Andrea, tentatively, “There are some things that I haven’t told you all.”

Andrea decided to start from the beginning, explaining the thought process which had led her to approach Professor McGonagall about becoming an animagus, her tutoring and studies, and finally her decision to undergo transformation without Ministry approval.

Jamie, Eliza, and even Roger gaped at Andrea for a moment after she had finished.

“So…” said Roger, after a moment, “Are you intending on doing it over the summer?! I’m sure you wouldn’t dare attempt something like that at school – and I expect that you must have considered how dangerous that would be. I don’t like it Andrea. It could go terribly wrong.”

“Well, it won’t,” laughed Andrea, “Do you have so little faith in me, Roger?”

“Well,” said Eliza in a low voice, shifting closer, “You could get into a _lot_ of trouble if you get caught! It is _illegal_ you know.”

“No need to worry about that either,” said Andrea, smiling mischievously.

“How can you be so _sure_ , Andrea?” asked Jamie, “I suppose you have a plan, then?”

“It’s done,” said Andrea, without elaborating any further. She took great enjoyment watching her friends exchanging confused looks and attempting to wrap their heads around what she was saying.

“What are you, _saying_ , Andrea,” said Roger, irritably, “Speak plainly! I don’t like guessing games, and I’m curious now – how far along are you? When were you thinking of doing this?”

“Like I said,” said Andrea with more than a little smugness, “It’s already _done_! I did it! This past weekend!”

All three friends stared, dumbstruck, at Andrea.

“You’re joking,” said Jamie, after a moment, “Aren’t you?”

“Not at all,” said Andrea smiling, “My animagus was a raven, just like Hugin. It was definitely the most painful thing I’ve ever gone through in every sense, but I made it and it’s done.”

After their initial shock, her friends spent the next forty-five minutes bombarding her with questions. They were as impressed as they were surprised, and they wanted all of the details.

“So did you tell McGonagall yet?” asked Eliza, eyes bright with excitement, “I’ll bet she’ll be very proud of you.”

“Or angry,” said Roger, who had seemed to reverted back to his sullen, cranky behavior once all of his questions were answered. “She’s got a lot on her plate as it is without her students breaking wizarding law right under her nose, especially with the Ministry quite literally breathing down all of our necks.”

“I’m going to tell her,” said Andrea, standing up and stretching. She had a feeling that this conversation would only continue circling from there onwards, now that she had recounted her experience several times over. “Right now, in fact – I think she has office hours right now. She probably will be a little irritated, but she deserves to know.”

Andrea headed back up the castle, leaving Jamie and Eliza to deal with Roger’s foul mood, and headed up to McGonagall’s office. Andrea planned on writing her parents afterwards to let them know about her transformation – in code of course as she had done for George two days ago. All she had said to George was “I did it,” and she was sure that he would know what she meant. It would be more difficult with her parents as they would need the letter to be a little more specific to divine her meaning.

As Andrea approached Professor McGonagall’s classroom, she noticed a small notice fixed to the door which said, “Attention: Test Examiners to Arrive Sunday, June 9th – Urgent Business Only.”

Andrea could hardly call her business _urgent_ , but Andrea could not help but press her ear to the door to see if McGonagall sounded busy. She could hear McGonagall’s sharp voice speaking to someone in a rather harsh tone behind the door.

Andrea would have to try again some other time, but N.E.W.T.’s were upon her in what seemed like to time so she did not have a chance to try again the next week as she hade hoped.

Andrea was taking six N.E.W.T. examinations over the course of the next fortnight. She had three scheduled for the first week, and three the week after – written and practical for each, and as she expected, Andrea breezed through her Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration N.E.W.T.’s with top marks. She was not much worried about Herbology either, but Andrea decided that she would need some extra study time for Ancient Runes and Arythmancy.

Directly after dinner on the Monday evening of the second week of N.E.W.T.’s, Andrea made her way from the Great Hall up to the library to study for her Arithmancy exam which was scheduled for Wednesday. She had been purposefully avoiding the library, as practically all of the fifth-years and the seventh-years who were taking their O.W.L.’s and N.E.W.T.’s were surely crammed within.

Andrea had studied her notes front to back over a dozen times, or so it had seemed, but she felt that an environment other than the Ravenclaw common room might inspire her in some new way.

Andrea entered the crowded library alone (Jamie, Roger, and Eliza were all studying in Ravenclaw Tower yet again) and scooted into a seat at the end of a long central table which was full of many anxious-looking fifth years. She placed her bag in an empty seat beside her and spread her notes out in front of her into several organized stacks.

Andrea had just cracked open her copy of _New Theory of Numerology,_ by Lucas Karuzos, when she was vaguely aware of someone taking the empty seat in front of her and gently sliding her farthest stack of parchment towards her to presumably make space for themselves.

Andrea had hoped, in spreading her belongings out on the table, that the seat across from her would remain empty, but the library _was_ packed, so Andrea took a deep breath and willed herself not to become irritated by something so small. She would just have to keep her eyes fixed on her book, and some notion of privacy might still be achieved.

After a few minutes had passed, however, the closeness of her new neighbor was eating at her concentration. If she looked at them, she was much more likely to have to make conversation, but Andrea found herself reading, “The number seven is believed to be the most powerful magical number in existence based on centuries of mythology, science, and mathematics, and therefore has a very important role in the wizarding world,” about seven times.

She soon realized that she would need to steal a glance around so that she might be able to refocus on her studies once the tangible awkwardness of her willful detachment from her surroundings was resolved.

With a sigh, Andrea peeked over the top of her book to find none other than Blaise Zabini deliberately flipping through a large volume titled, _Antidotes_. Seeming to feel her gaze, Blaise’s black eyes flicked up from his reading.

He smiled slightly and promptly resumed his reading. Andrea watched him for a moment, as he traced a long finger along a line in the volume that he was reading before jotting a note down on a piece of parchment. Was his seating choice a coincidence? Or could he have other reasons for sitting across from her?

Zabini must have realized that Andrea was still watching him, because he suddenly put down his quill and slowly leaned across the table, staring directly at Andrea.

“Hello, Andrea,” said Blaise in a rumbling whisper with traces of a smirk, “Am I disturbing you?”

“Erm, no! Of course not,” said Andrea, feeling herself flushing slightly in embarrassment, “I was just surprised that it was you…

Andrea trailed off, as Blaise was raising his eyebrows with thinly veiled amusement and seemed to be restraining himself from smirking.

“Sorry to bother you,” said Andrea snippily, “I’m sure you’ve got O.W.L.’s to be studying for.”

“I am actually reviewing from _today’s_ O.W.L.,” said Blaise with a thoughtful yet casual tone, “My Potion’s O.W.L. was this afternoon. I see you are studying for Arithmancy. Quite a fascinating subject. I find Professor Vector most knowledgeable.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying for your O.W.L. in that course, then?” said Andrea over the top of her book, which she was once more using as a sort of wall between them.

“I already took that exam, as it happens,” said Blaise, reaching across the table for the pile of parchment nearest to Andrea, “Do you mind me having a look at your notes? It would be interesting to see what they will be testing on in later years.

Andrea wanted to say no, but she really could not think of any reason not to agree. After all, he was being perfectly polite, and he wasn’t really bothering her as she had already read her notes twice over.

From behind her book, Andrea watched Blaise finger through the pages of her notes, pausing here and there to stare at various sections. She felt slightly unnerved having someone read through her notes; although she was sure that he was not about to contradict anything she had written, the notes had been written for her own use – had she meant to give them to someone else she might have spent more time clarifying certain points.

“Yes, I certainly plan to continue taking that subject based upon what I am seeing here,” said Blaise several minutes later, sliding the parchment back to Andrea. “Let me ask you, if you will indulge me; what is your opinion of the modern use of Chaldean Numerology versus Greek?”

Andrea had been hesitant to engage in conversation with Blaise at first, but after a few minutes she found herself relaxing more. Despite is lofty manner, he could actually be quite pleasant to talk to – it helped that they shared quite a few common interests, including Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and Potions, and they ended up talking until much later than Andrea had anticipated.

Andrea was just about to start on a rant about magic that was on the borderline between the subjects of Transfiguration and Charms, when Madam Pince bustled over to their now nearly empty table to shoo them out of the library.

Much to Andrea’s surprise, the next day, after an hour or so of studying, she found herself once again chatting with Blaise about potion design theory for a couple of hours. As long as they stuck to academic conversation, Andrea found Blaise quite easy to talk to.

Several times, she had nearly forgotten about his previous advances, but was quickly reminded again when he let his glance linger a little longer than he should or when his hand brushed against hers “unintentionally” while she passed him different sections from her book to read.

To Andrea, however, these small inconveniences were worth the conversation, and as long as he did not try anything too bold, Andrea felt that it was perfectly safe to continue their intellectual chats. In fact, Andrea found that reviewing her studies out loud with someone who was interested in her subjects was quite helpful in solidifying the information in her head.

As Andrea packed her books into her bag Tuesday evening, feeling quite competent for her Arithmancy N.E.W.T. the next day, Blaise walked around the table and stood before her.

“Would it be possible for me to borrow your Ancient Runes text this evening?” asked Blaise smoothly, “I took the exam last week, but I would greatly appreciate a chance to delve a little deeper.”

“Okay,” said Andrea, bending down to dig out her textbook, “But I will need this back tomorrow. My N.E.W.T. for Ancient Runes is on Thursday.”

“Of course,” said Blaise with an appreciative smile, “I will be here again tomorrow evening, and you can tell me how they test for Arithmancy N.E.W.T.’s”

“I’ll need it sooner than that actually, I plan on studying during the day as well,” said Andrea glancing up at Blaise’s handsome face for a moment before looking hastily away so as to not betray her opinion of him to anyone (especially him).

“Certainly,” said Blaise, “I will drop by the library around two o’clock and deliver it to you.”

With that Blaise turned and walked out of the library without waiting for an answer. Andrea headed up to Ravenclaw Tower ready for a sound night’s sleep so she could finish her second-to-last N.E.W.T. the next day.

Andrea was just thinking about how nice it was going to be to enjoy firewhiskey in the evenings with her friends during her free week (the last week of term) after this Friday, when she bumped straight into Roger, who had just dashed down Ravenclaw Tower’s spiral staircase with unprecedented speed.

“Agh! Andrea!” groused Roger, taking a swift step backwards and looking rather disheveled and wan.

“You alight, Roger?” asked Andrea, although she was quite certain that she was signing up for another monologue about Quidditch.

“Well, not exactly no,” said Roger shifting about uneasily. Andrea waited for him to explain, but he surprisingly remained mute.

“Do you want to go back up to the common room and talk about it?” asked Andrea.

“ _No_!” said Roger frantically before somewhat composing himself once more, “I mean, no. I’d prefer not to. I’ve just… witnessed something that I wasn’t expecting in the least… I’m fine, I suppose… I just feel like between _this_ and the Daily Prophet letting me down, and the Quidditch loss… I just feel like I’m completely out of touch, Andrea.”

“What _happened_ Roger?” hissed Andrea in a whisper as several Ravenclaws pushed by them in the stairwell as they turned in for the evening.

Rogers eyes widened for a moment before stammering, “You aren’t going to believe this, but I just… I saw… Well, a couple of hours ago I went to the Owlery to send another Quidditch-related letter and I passed a niche over there and… and… Well, I saw Jamie _with_ Eliza! Snogging! And what’s _worse_ is that I’m fairly sure that Jamie’s hand was… I think they were… You know? They saw me _see_ , Andrea!!”

“Oh…” said Andrea weakly. That was indeed quite awkward, and Roger (despite the fact that Roger often praised himself for being incredibly tactful and intuitive) was quite bad at handling any type of conflict or awkwardness. He had plainly had a rough couple of weeks, and finding out that he had been completely oblivious to Eliza and Jamie’s new relationship (and seeing them getting physical, no less) was plainly too much for him.

“They’ll never _forgive_ me, Andrea!” said Roger with an edge of desperation, “I’ll bet I looked like a Peeping Tom, lurking around a pillar, but I was just trying to see if my eyes were cheating me! I’ve got to be up _early_ for a N.E.W.T. tomorrow, but I still have more letters to respond to and I don’t want to end on a bad note with the girls right before the end of term! What am I supposed to do?!”

Roger slumped down onto the narrow winding stairs and hung his head in his hands.

“Roger, don’t be silly,” said Andrea, reaching down and squeezing one of his shoulders, “Of _course_ they’ll forgive you! You’re not thinking straight – you’ve been under too much stress. They’re probably a lot less worried about it than _you_ are. A few months back you snogged Jamie in front of everyone and it wasn’t a big deal, remember?”

“But we _just_ snogged, Andrea,” retorted Roger, “They were… well… The point is, I’m _sure_ they didn’t want to be seen doing what they were doing, and we both know they’ve been interested in each other for a while, but I somehow missed a step somewhere. I feel like I’m messing up at every turn.”

“Come on,” said Andrea, taking Roger by the hand and pulling him to his feet, “You need to rest, and so do I. It’s going to be alright. I’ll talk to them for you if you like.”

“That would be great,” said Roger, pressing his temples between his fingers with force, “Thanks.”

As it happened, Jamie and Eliza still hadn’t come back to the dormitory by the time Andrea drifted off to sleep with Hugin nestled on her chest. She next saw the pair at breakfast the next morning before her Arithmancy N.E.W.T.

“Hey Andrea,” said Eliza smiling and looking generally smug, “How’s it going?”

“I can’t complain,” said Andrea, “I feel pretty prepared for this exam. Have the pair of you seen Roger at all since last night?”

Eliza and Jamie slowly looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

“Not _since_ last night,” said Jamie, sharing a look of great amusement with Eliza, “Did he tell you that he walked in on us, then?”

“He did,” said Andrea. Judging by their attitude, Andrea decided that she had been right about Roger being more bothered by it than they were.

“He ran for his _life_ ,” said Eliza, wiping away a tear of laughter from under her glasses, “I’ve never seen him look so hysterical.”

“He’s quite upset,” said Andrea, doing her best not to laugh at poor Roger, “He seems to think that you both thought he was acting like some kind of lurking pervert and that you’ll never forgive him.”

“Oh there’s _no_ way he could have given that impression,” said Jamie giggling, “You know, his reaction kind of reminded me of how my dad reacted when he saw me snogging this muggle boy that I met up with behind our house last summer. Frantic, clumsy, and _embarrassed_!”

“Well, you should tell him that you’re all good, then” said Andrea, giggling at the image in her mind of Roger, arms flailing about as he hightailed it in the other direction.

“We would if we could _find_ him!” laughed Jamie as she spooned a heap of porridge into her mouth. “I got up early hoping to catch him in the common room, but I didn’t see him.”

“Well, if I see him, I’ll tell him to go and find you,” said Andrea, smiling to herself about the peculiarity of the situation. She never could have before imagined that Roger would hide from Eliza or Jamie. Andrea pitied him. He seemed like he was nearly on the verge of emotional collapse the past few weeks.

Andrea hurried off to sit for her Arithmancy test, and by the end of the two-and-a-half hour that it took her to complete it, she felt fairly confident that she had achieved a good score. George had said Arithmancy would not matter for Andrea in the long term – and maybe he was right, but getting a high score was a matter of pride for Andrea (especially after failing her midterm in the winter).

Andrea finally received George’s response to the note she had sent him about her transformation that afternoon at lunchtime.

_Dear Andrea,_

_Well done on your achievement! I knew you could do it! I can’t wait to hear all about it when I see you – speaking of, if it’s alright with you I thought I’d meet you at King’s Cross station and pick you up – preferably before my mum sees me. I was hoping I could help you bring your things to your house and then maybe we can spend the evening at my place. The shop is all set up and I’d love for you to see it! Unfortunately, we may not have much privacy, but maybe I can think up a way to get Fred out of here for a while – I have my ways… I also wanted to ask you if we might go to the Burrow together in a couple of weeks. Mum still doesn’t know about the shop, but she’s heard by now about us dropping out of school by now and that we are cooped up somewhere in London, so she’s going to be mad furious when we finally show up there, but I figure your presence might soften the blow. I can’t wait to see you, Lovely_.

_\- George_

Andrea clutched the letter to her chest as she made her way up to the library for some extra study time before Blaise showed up and distracted her. She had made the most unlikely friend; she had never expected to be able to make friends with someone who so openly was interested in her, yet no boundaries had been crossed, and Andrea appreciated the level of respect it showed that he did not make any further advances.

More than that, Andrea was happy to have someone to talk to that shared the same interests as her. Sure, Jamie and Eliza had some common interests and Roger liked Charms, but none of them really _got_ the topics that Andrea found so riveting, and Andrea really did not like blabbering on about anything that her listener did not fancy hearing about.

On the way to the library, Andrea checked McGonagall’s office again, but she must have been teaching a lesson as she was not there. Once settled in her usual seat at the end of one of the long tables in the library, Andrea pulled out her Ancient Runes notes until Blaise showed up at two o’clock.

Andrea had just finished checking off the last of the notes that she needed clarification on in her book when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Blaise was standing behind her calmly looking down into her eyes.

“Thank you, Andrea,” said Blaise in a smooth voice, sliding the book onto the table beside her, “The text was quite informative. I must be off, but if you will be here this evening I would like to discuss some of it with you.”

“Alright,” said Andrea, “Thanks.”

Andrea did her best to ignore the scent of white musk and peppercorns that Blaise left in his wake. Andrea opened up her book and promptly recommenced her final study session at Hogwarts.

Andrea studied until dinnertime, then returned to the library once more where Blaise already sat reading an alternative book on ancient runes that looked quite old.

“What is _this_?” said Andrea as Blaise passed over a large, grey, leather-bound book for her to examine. It was encrusted with small bones and black onyx around the boarder, and an oval of bone encircled a large _Fehu_ rune that seemed to have been painted on in bright white.

“This is tome is over a thousand years old,” said Blaise, gazing at the book with clear revere, “Preserved by magic, of course, and contains ancient runework, spells, and a range of other… enigmatic instructions. It was bound in ancient Scandinavia. Please, examine it.”

Andrea slowly turned the stiff, animal hide pages and stared in wonder at the ancient markings. There was no Eastern alphabet to be found, just runes, but they were beautifully painted on with what looked like a charcoal based ink.

To understand the meaning of these inscriptions, Andrea would need many hours to translate them. Even at first glance there were several runes that she did not recognize from her textbooks, but the time it would take to understand the tome would be well worth the work. Plus, Andrea secretly enjoyed that type of labor.

“Where did you get this?” whispered Andrea, looking up from the book at Blaise in amazement, “This is extraordinary!”

“Mother has a large collection of ancient texts that the family has acquired over the generations,” said Blaise, receiving the book from Andrea as she gently passed it back to him.

“That’s amazing,” said Andrea, she would not have minded taking a look through _that_ library.

“Perhaps, you would like to come take a look at some point over the summer holiday?” said Blaise, as if reading her mind, “Mother never minds opening the library those truly interested in ancient magic.”

Andrea was silent for a moment. Talking to Blaise in a public place was one thing, but whether or not they were friends now, there was no denying that Blaise must secretly (or not so secretly) find Andrea attractive. Not that she could really deny that she didn’t think the same of him in that sense, which made it all the worse of an idea to spend the day alone with him.

“I, er…” said Andrea, fidgeting with her quill, “Maybe. We’ll have to see how things go with my parents this summer. They are moving to the country for… personal reasons.”

“Ah, I see,” said Blaise thoughtfully tapping his fingers on the table, “Does this have anything to do with that comment that Draco made some weeks back? Regarding your father?”

“Maybe…” said Andrea apprehensively. After all, Slytherins, especially wealthy Slytherins, had the reputation of being prejudiced against muggles and anyone who did not claim to be of “pure blood.”

“I quite understand,” said Blaise as he stowed his ancient book into his shoulder bag and glanced darkly at Andrea, “One does hear rumors these days. Mother and I try to avoid mixing with those associated with criminal and otherwise odious organizations. At times it is unavoidable to cross paths with some, but staying out of sight and out of mind works well for us.”

Andrea stared at Blaise in surprise. She had not expected him to be so open about her father. He had glossed over the details, but the overall message was there. It seemed likely that he also believed that You-Know-Who was back, or at least acknowledge the increase in death eater activity. While these facts seemed obvious to Andrea, it was surprising how many people were still in denial.

Andrea sat in relative silence with Blaise as they both poured over several other ancient rune translation texts for a while longer, until Andrea decided to head up to the common room for the night.

Roger, Jamie, and Eliza had apparently made their peace, as they were all seated around the fireplace. Roger was still looking quite worn down, so Andrea sat down next to him and offered to read his Astronomy notes out loud to him as he laid back on the other side of the couch.

It was getting quite late, nearly eleven o’clock, and they all were about to head up to the dormitories for bed, when someone nearby called out.

“Hey! Look! There are wand sparks over by Hagrid’s hut!” someone shouted from behind them.

They all gathered by the window facing the hut, and sure enough red sparks were shooting off from a squat figure, leading several other figures in its wake, in the distance towards an unknown target near the path to the school gates.

“Look, there’s someone else out there,” said Luna Lovegood, “Someone open the window, I think I can hear them!”

With a window open, the distinct sound of Professor McGonagall’s voice could be heard in the distance. It was like watching shadow puppets on a distant stage, and while the words they were speaking were muffled, their overall meaning could not be mistaken.

Umbridge and McGonagall were at it again, but this time it seemed that things had escalated beyond repair. Suddenly the taller figure flew back in a flash of sparks and was sprawled, unmoving on the ground below. Andrea, along with quite a few others, screamed.

McGonagall had been hit! While there was nothing more to be seen from the darkness, except for McGonagall’s figure being levetated from the grounds into the school, the common room filled with commotion.

It was hard to believe that Umbridge would go as far as to attack a teacher, much less in the middle of the night on the school grounds. Andrea hadn’t even had a chance to talk to her about her transformation.

Was McGonagall alright? How would things be at Hogwarts from now on? Would the Ministry keep Umbridge at Hogwarts knowing what she had done, or was the level of Ministry corruption so deep that no one was safe anymore – not even at Hogwarts.

These questions circulated the common room for the rest of the night until Andrea finally went to bed. She would have her Ancient Runes N.E.W.T. in the morning, and she couldn’t afford to stay up worrying.

Luckily, Andrea was perfectly capable of functioning on four hours of sleep (that is, if it was only for one test). After her exam, she would be done. Her hard work and her extra studying with Blaise had paid off, as she was able to confidently complete her exam in just over half the amount of time allotted.

Andrea strode out of the testing room and decided head to lunch early. Her last test was done. It was a bittersweet feeling, looking up at the candles above her. Her time as a student had ended. Hopefully in a year or two she could come back here as a professor, but the uncertainty of whether she would ever spend more time there made the castle that much more splendorous.

Once in Great Hall for lunch, Andrea pulled out her runes book to check if she had answered one of the exam questions completely correctly and set it on the table before her. As she flipped through, something bright purple caught her eye. Andrea flipped back until she found the source of the color; a single purple lilac had been pressed tightly between the pages.

Andrea was certain that it had not been there before, as she had inserted several notes on scraps of parchment between the pages that held the flower.

Andrea knew plants and herbs well enough to know the meaning of a purple lilac: it symbolized the first emotions of romantic affection. Andrea gulped and snapped the book shut as her friends appeared together at the table and piled their plates with sandwiches.

After lunch, Andrea, Jamie, Eliza, and Roger (who was feeling much better now that exams were over and several Quidditch teams had shown interest in his resume) spent their free afternoon basking in the sun by the Black Lake.

Andrea lay on her back between Roger and Jamie watching the clouds move slowly across the sky above her. She was quite sleepy, but was too intent on absorbing her surroundings to allow herself to drift off.

She breathed in the sweet smell of prickly grass and the sharp scent of the decaying leaves that wafted up from the edge of the lake. Every now and then the scent of fir trees drifted across her face in the warm breeze.

Jamie and Eliza could be heard mumbling to each other not far away, as Andrea listened to the soft lapping of the waterline on the pebbly shore.

“Do you suppose McGonagall will be alright?” asked Jamie loud enough for Andrea to hear.

“I heard Flitwick saying she was sent over to St. Mungo’s, but he thinks she will be fine. He’s furious though,” said Roger.

“I just want Dumbledore to come back…” moaned Eliza, “It wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

“Our lives aren’t over just yet,” said Andrea sleepily, “It’s not the end. I also would like to say, I’d really like it if we could all meet up once a month. I’m going to miss seeing you all every day.”

“Yeah, that’d be brilliant,” said Jamie, “We can just apparate to Diagon Alley and hang at your teahouse if that’s okay with you.”

“Sounds amazing,” said Andrea, closing her eyes and fully relaxing.

They all agreed that they would meet at the end of each month for afternoon tea – an agreement which made Andrea feel considerably less miserable about leaving.

“Are you lot all packed?” asked Eliza, “I almost forgot my dragonhide gloves in the greenhouse. I never realized how much stuff I had spread out all over campus until this week…”

“No, and as a matter of fact,” said Andrea, opening her eyes suddenly, “I left my cauldron and my mini potions kit in the dungeons! I’m going to go down there now and get them before someone snatches them – now that classes are over and Snape isn’t always in his classroom.”

“Alright! Catch up with us later though,” said Jamie, propping herself up on her elbow. “Tonight we are going to be planning for a little end of term celebration for tomorrow evening!”

“I’ll be there sooner than that!” shouted Andrea back over her shoulder as she strode back to the castle, “Don’t worry!”

Andrea hurried by the Great Hall as quietly as she could. O.W.L. testing was still in progress, so complete silence in the entrance hall was required or else face the wrath of the testing instructors.

Andrea slipped into the passageway to the stairs and made the descent into the dark, cool dungeons. Andrea made her way through the stony passageway. It was quiet – the only sound that Andrea could hear was the clacking of her boots against the granite.

She swept into Professor Snape’s empty classroom.

“Hello?” called Andrea quietly.

There was no answer. That was exactly why Andrea needed to hurry up and grab her things. It was one thing to leave them lying around his classroom on an ordinary day, as most students feared getting caught snooping around by Snape, but with Snape otherwise occupied the chances of someone nicking her belongings was much higher.

Luckily, no one had seemed to have noticed her cauldron and potion kit in the back of the classroom next to an old bookshelf containing an array of old potions reference books. Andrea looped her arm through the handle of her cauldron, swung her bag around her shoulder to better balance her weight, and picked up the potions kit.

It was a long way back to Ravenclaw Tower so heavily endowed, but Andrea didn’t mind much. She had nowhere to be and thought it would be nice to savor the long slow trip upwards. She felt a sort of sentimental, giddiness now that her exams were over – both sad and excited at finally becoming a fully educated witch.

Andrea took one last fleeting look at the dim classroom, then stepped back out into the corridor. She had walked about five paces when Andrea suddenly stopped. Down the corridor, past Snape’s classroom, Andrea was aware of a commotion not far away.

She turned back around towards the source of the racket, walked past Snape’s classroom a ways, and listened hard to the raised voices that were growing progressively closer.

“Come _on_!” shouted a girl’s voice, “Draco said they’re upstairs and to nab anyone who looks suspicious and bring them up to the Headmistress’s office. The more the better if you ask me! Professor Umbridge says she’ll reward us the more of them we can catch!”

A Slytherin girl in the Inquisitorial Squad (called Parkinson maybe?) and five or so Slytherin boys, including Malfoy’s usual bodyguard-thugs, rounded the corner at a brisk pace.

“Oh look!” shouted Parkinson, spotting Andrea and pulling out her wand, “A Ravenclaw trying to steal from Professor Snape, aren’t we sweetheart? Grab her!”

Andrea was not prepared for the attack. She thought she would have at least been given a moment to explain herself, but before she knew what was happening, the corridor was filled with the shouting of the squad hurling hexes her way.

Andrea’s arm was weighed down by her cauldron and her other arm was full so the best that she could do for now was to leap out of the way of a stinging jinx that nearly hit her square in the forehead. Her wand was in her pocket, but it was impossible to reach at the moment.

Andrea shielded her head with her arms and belongings and was about to make a run for it when she was grabbed by the elbow and yanked backwards. She fell back, farther than she thought possible given the width of the corridor, and landed squarely on her backside.

She heard a soft _thunk_ and the sounds of shouting were suddenly quite faint. Andrea brought her arms down from her face, and suddenly realized that she had been standing in front of Professor Snape’s potion supplies pantry and had been pulled inside from the corridor.

With her arm aching under its weight, Andrea slid the cauldron from off of her elbow, let go of her potion kit, and stood up to look around. Andrea stared at the closed door in front of her, and had a sickening realization; Snape’s private stores could only be opened by Snape himself.

Normally, for Advanced Potions, Snape would unlock the door for his advanced students to become familiar with or borrow unusual ingredients on the condition that they must leave the door ajar and must shut the door firmly behind them upon exiting. She was stuck.

“Are you quite alright, Andrea?” asked a voice from somewhere behind her.

Bewildered by the sudden attack, fall, and change in environments, Andrea had forgotten that _someone_ had pulled her inside and that she hadn’t simply fallen back into the room.

Andrea turned around suddenly to face the voice, and saw Blaise Zabini leaning against a potion cabinet filled with jars of pickled, whole ingredients in the shadows. The room was lit only by a five-candle candelabra in the corner, and the floor was covered with a spread of seven or eight open books.

“Erm, yeah, I suppose,” said Andrea, catching her breath from her start.

“I am sorry to startle you,” said Blaise, stepping out from his ring of books on the floor towards Andrea, “I have been working on a project for some months now, under the supervision of Professor Snape. I spend quite a bit of time in here, so I couldn’t help but hear the disturbance outside. It seemed that you were in a position where you required assistance, but I thought it most prudent to abscond rather than to face the brunt of the inquisitorial squad.”

“Oh, yeah…Thanks,” said Andrea, pushing her hair out of her face and taking off her shoulder bag. “But you _do_ realize that we have to wait for Snape to let us out of here now? Did he say when he was coming back?”

“He did not,” said Blaise, rather unconcernedly, turning back to sit on the floor behind his spread of books, then looked up at Andrea, “I am sorry about that. Why don’t you join me while we wait?”

Andrea glanced back at the door, hoping that Snape would show up before too long, then resolved to sit under the light of the candelabra and wait. Blaise continued flipping through one of the texts for a few minutes, occasionally picking up a jar or jotting down a note in his notebook.

“Have you finished with your N.E.W.T.’s, Andrea?” asked Blaise, after a few minutes of silence, hardly looking up from his work.

“Yeah. Thankfully, now I can enjoy my last week at Hogwarts without worrying about schoolwork,” said Andrea, crossing her legs under her robes and watching as Blaise scratched out something he had written with his quill. “I suppose you are done with O.W.L.’s as well.”

“Yes,” said Blaise, suddenly sitting up straighter, shutting his notebook, and turning his full attention to Andrea, “I have finished them. Might I add that it had somehow slipped my mind that you would not be returning to Hogwarts next year. Too bad – I had been thoroughly enjoying our discussions lately.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Andrea, looking away from Blaise’s penetrating stare, “I live in Diagon Alley though, at Timeless Teas, so we could talk there sometime in the teahouse if you are ever out and about.”

“Excellent,” said Blaise quietly, “I shall bring some more tomes for you to take a look at.”

“Sounds good,” said Andrea casually. The silence that followed was rather heavy, and Andrea was beginning to feel awkward now that Blaise was no longer focused on his work.

Andrea glanced at Blaise, who was leaning back, sitting cross-legged, and staring thoughtfully into space. She could bare the silence no longer.

“Did you hear what happened to Professor McGonagall yesterday?” asked Andrea, hoping to strike up a new conversation.

“Oh yes,” said Blaise, nodding slowly, “That was quite unfortunate. Particularly unprofessional behavior. It was certainly injurious to Professor McGonagall’s pride, as well, I imagine.”

“I’m sure of that too…” said Andrea, glancing at Blaise, who was staring intently at Andrea as she spoke. Maybe silence was preferable after all. “They really hate each other.”

“Yes, I daresay they do,” said Blaise, a small smile forming at the corners of his full lips. “Two very dominant women from very different extremes – they are bound to butt heads. They are both prime examples of powerful women.”

“But Umbridge is the horrid kind, and McGonagall is simply marvelous,” said Andrea, just to be sure that Blaise understood where Andrea stood.

“Quite,” said Blaise simply, as he picked up a jar of pickled salamanders to scrutinize.

“She’s very kind to me,” Andrea continued, still feeling the need to fill the silence. “She told me that when she becomes Headmistress she will hire me as the Transfigurations Professor. It won’t be for quite a few more years, but I very much want the position.”

“It is fitting,” said Blaise, his black eyes flicking to Andrea, “One powerful woman steps down and another takes her place. I can imagine no one better to fill such shoes.

Andrea felt herself blush in the dim light. He was clearly flattering her, but he spoke with such a reverence that Andrea could hardly accuse him of it.

“You’re quite an ambitious woman as well,” said Blaise with a small smile. “I suppose you could fit well in Slytherin house – if you had to select another. I admire that in you.

Andrea said nothing, as Blaise casually scooted a little closer to Andrea so that they were sitting side by side. He tilted his head towards her and spoke in a low voice, as if he were sharing an amusing secret with her, “I have also noticed that you often seize the things which you want out of life. Don’t you, Andrea? So do I, as demonstrated – ”

Before Andrea knew what was happening, Blaise reached down and slid his warm fingers between Andrea’s and gave her hand a firm squeeze.

“Don’t!” said Andrea, yanking her hand from his grasp and jumping to her feet. Blaise lifted himself from the ground and stood to face her, staring back at her with his shrewd, black gaze. She had really thought that they had moved past Blaise advancing on her. They had got along fine for many hours before without much issue. “I already told you, I’m in a relationship with someone.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Blaise simply.

“Then _why_ have you stopped respecting my boundaries?” asked Andrea. Blaise regarded her silently for a moment or two, then took a step closer.

“Because, _Andrea_ ,” said Blaise, with just the faintest trace edge to his deep voice, “The way I see you has changed since we first met. At first I thought you were just a pretty face, but it has become apparent that you possess many qualities and characteristics which have further caught my attention. I often find myself somewhat preoccupied when you drift into my mind. I find that most unexpected, Andrea, and _most_ intriguing.”

“Well,” said Andrea shakily, quite taken aback by Blaise’s forthrightness, “I’m in love with someone else. So I don’t know what you’re expecting of me.”

“I am not asking you to love me, Andrea,” said Blaise with a dark chuckle, “I simply desire the chance to show you how well we would work together as partners – and as lovers.”

Blaise reached out and pushed a stray lock behind Andrea’s ear. Andrea was not quite sure how to feel. Her blood was hot – the tension in the room was enough to achieve that on its own, regardless of who she was talking to. She had to keep her head straight, but, in spite of herself, Andrea could feel desire creeping up inside of her.

Andrea braved another look at Blaise. He was staring gently down at her, but she felt as though that piercing gaze of his could see right through her.

“I am not going to leave George for you,” said Andrea sharply.

“And I am not asking you to,” said Blaise with a smirk.

“Are you suggesting I _cheat_ on him?” said Andrea, glad to have a reason turn her desire into fury.

“No,” said Blaise, standing as closely as ever, speaking to her so matter-of-factly that it seemed as though he were somehow unaware or unconcerned by their proximity, “I would not ask you to _cheat_ , Andrea. Have you ever considered that monogamy is a construct made with the intent to imprison the woman to one man? Even if a man does not _cheat,_ as you say, he then himself becomes imprisoned. There are numerous flaws with monogamy. What does one have to gain by clipping the wings of a partner? In the end, this only builds resentment.

“However can one be expected to tend to _all_ of someone’s emotional, physical, and psychological needs?” asked Blaise calmly, “Each of us is different, and we form connections with others in unique ways. Can you deny that we have a truly _unique_ connection, Andrea?

Andrea looked at the door of the supply room. She did not want to answer. In truth, Andrea _had_ felt a strong connection to Blaise. He was the complete opposite of George, yet she could not deny that if she had not started dating George, she would have certainly agreed to date Blaise. Andrea did not have particular qualms against polygamy, but she did not feel that it had any place in her life and she had a strong feeling that George would feel the same.

“Andrea, look at me please,” said Blaise patiently. Andrea looked up at his angular face and into his ebony eyes. He asked again, “Can you deny that we have made a connection?”

Andrea swallowed hard. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she felt that honesty would ultimately be the best path – especially since he seemed to already know the answer.

“I cannot deny it,” said Andrea finally, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I am loyal to one man at a time, and as I said before, I am in _love_ with George.”

“Loyalty,” said Blaise slowly, “ While it may be an admirable sentiment, more often than not, it ends up smothering both parties involved and ultimately hinders their mutual appreciation for one another. Respect, admiration, and the freedom to come and go prevent staleness and allow the relationship to be more withstanding of time and change in circumstance.”

Blaise took another step towards Andrea, who was now backed up against a wall lined with ingredients from ceiling to floor, so that they were almost touching and she nearly had to crane her neck just to maintain eye contact. Andrea watched, frozen, as Blaise slowly, deliberately laced his fingers back through Andrea’s.

“Just ask him,” said Blaise softly, “You might be surprised by what he might say. If one truly cares for another, they would not shackle each other to their beck and call. I, for one, would never ask you to choose a favorite. I am not jealous. You could come and go as you please, just as I would. Such an alliance would be advantageous to us both. Especially during these dark and uncertain times…

Andrea could hardly think of a response to this. She was suddenly feeling quite disoriented and confused. Blaise was quite good at making a case, and he certainly had a way with words. It made it difficult for Andrea to find a retort. Blaise watched her as her head spun within.

“You seem uncertain,” said Blaise in a soft, rumbling voice, “That is understandable. I wish to help you come to a conclusion – before I do, I would like to assume full accountability for all hereafter.”

“What do you – ” Andrea started, but stopped short. Blaise was looking down at her so fervently that her words caught in her throat. Her limbs hung limply at her sides as she stood glued to the spot, as Blaise slowly lifted his hand to her face.

“Do not speak,” said Blaise softly, taking her chin between his fingers.

Andrea made to take another step backwards, but found her back firmly pressed against the wood of the shelves behind her. Andrea opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter a syllable, Blaise gently pressed his soft lips over Andrea’s and slipped his tongue between her parted lips.

Grasping the nape of her neck firmly, Blaise kissed Andrea slowly and searchingly. Andrea tried to pull away at first, but Blaise held her insistently. Her head spun at a dizzying rate as she breathed in his scent, felt his warmth, and tasted his kiss.

Gripped suddenly by something primal within her, all sense of reality faded and Andrea gave in to his touch feverishly returning his soft, stirring kiss. She felt him all around her. All she knew was that she wanted this. It felt as though a dam that she had built long ago had finally been released, and the pressure was such that the consequences of the release were beyond all control.

“ _Enjoying_ ourselves are we?” said a flat voice that brought Andrea back to her senses in a flash of cold sweat.

“My personal stores are _not_ to be used for your conquest, Zabini,” said Snape, who was standing in the doorway, glowering at Blaise, who had pulled away at Snape’s entrance but whose body was still pressed firmly against Andrea’s so that she was mostly hidden from Snape’s view.

Andrea, hot with fury and embarrassment, pushed Blaise hard off of her and strode across the room to quickly grab her belongings. Andrea stood up to find Snape staring at her, eyes wide with disbelief once he saw what girl Zabini had been snogging.

“Thank you for letting us out, Professor,” said Andrea, bowing her head so as to preserve any dignity that she might have left, and swept passed Professor Snape and out of the room.

Andrea heard Zabini call after her, but she walked on as if she had not heard anything. Once up in the entrance hall, Andrea had a clear enough path so that she felt comfortable to enchant her cauldron to lead the way to Ravenclaw Tower without knocking anyone out in the process.

“ _Locamotor cauldron_ ” said Andrea, and briskly followed it up the stairs to the Grand Staircase.

She would not allow herself to feel guilty about what happened. He knew that he should not have done it. He had said so himself. Did she enjoy it? Yes. She had, but she had tried to stop him and get away. She had set her boundaries multiple times. He had chosen not to respect them. She could hardly blame herself to succumbing to a kiss forced upon her without her consent.

One thing was for sure: she would certainly not be able to be friends with Blaise Zabini any longer. He had crossed the limit. Perhaps it was better that this had happened now and not later. Their chemistry was undeniable. Maybe she was naïve to believe that they ever could be _just_ friends in the first place. Naïve or hopeful. Either way, he had lost privileges to her company.

Despite her irritation, Andrea was quite disappointed that she had lost her friend. She had gone straight to bed when she arrived back in the common room, skipping dinner entirely as she did not fancy facing Blaise again in the Great Hall that day.

Andrea went to bed grumpy and hungry, but little did she know that all thoughts of Blaise’s brazen behavior would be blown out of her mind the next morning.

“Andrea, have you heard?” said Eliza as soon as Andrea sat down for breakfast. The Great Hall was buzzing with frantic conversation. “Roger, pass her the _Daily Prophet,_ quickly!”

“The _Prophet_?” asked Andrea, taking the paper, “Does it actually have anything worth reading?”

Andrea gaped at the front page. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned,” it read. Andrea could not believe her eyes. You-Know-Who himself had shown up in the Ministry of Magic and fought Harry Potter once again. Andrea had believed Dumbledore about His return, but seeing it in the newspaper made Andrea’s skin crawl.

“The _Prophet_ has finally sorted itself,” said Roger, taking back the paper to reread it.

“You know what else?” asked Jamie, “Umbridge is _gone_! Something’s happened and she’s in the hospital wing. Dumbledore is coming back! Now we can really enjoy our last week at Hogwarts – well, that is if we can think about anything besides You-Know-Who…”

After processing for a moment, Andrea looked around at each of her friends. The future was so uncertain. They were leaving Hogwarts, but now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had publicly returned, what would happen to the wizarding world outside of Hogwarts? Andrea was secretly, and somewhat shamefully, relieved that Jamie, Eliza, nor Roger were muggleborn.

Andrea could worry about them a little less, but an urgency was slowly building in the pit of her stomach. She needed to be home. She needed to help her family go into hiding. She needed to be close to George. Her time at Hogwarts was truly drawing to an end, but it seemed as though the world, as she knew it, was as well.


	20. The Burrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter skews a bit away from the canon timeline, unfortunately, but only slightly and most of you won't even notice probably. I had to put in the disclaimer though! Thanks everyone! Enjoy!

Andrea’s last week at Hogwarts was a pleasant one. While the corridors buzzed with the news of Umbridge’s disappearance, Dumbledore’s reappearance, and You-Know-Who’s return, Andrea and her friends made the most of the warm, sunny days by spending their time on the grounds. Roger even taught Andrea how to fly properly on a broomstick (Andrea thought this might help her get accustomed to flight – even if the type of flying was entirely different from what she would be doing in her raven form). 

The end-of-term feast was considerably better than Andrea had expected, as Dumbledore (the heart of Hogwarts it seemed to Andrea) had returned to his rightful place in the headmaster’s seat in the Great Hall. 

Andrea could hardly believe, when she packed her trunk the next morning, that she would never likely see the inside of her dormitory again. She passed a hand over her blue, velvet bed hangings, took a deep, shuddering breath, and turned her back on the room that she had spent most of her nights for the past seven years. 

After a quick breakfast, Andrea, Roger, Eliza, and Jamie made their way down with the rest of the school to the Hogwarts Express and hurried to find a compartment that would fit them all.

“Well,” said Eliza, taking a seat next to window and gazing up at Hogwarts castle in the distance, “It’s over – we aren’t students anymore… I wonder if I’ll ever come back here again.”

“It is kind of sad, isn’t it?” said Jamie, resting her head on Eliza’s shoulder. “But on the bright side, we all have great things lined up for us – you with your internship, me with the liaison job. Andrea has her tea house and she’ll be a professor in a few years, and Roger will be a Quidditch star before you know it!”

“I certainly _will_ ,” said Roger smugly as he flipped open his copy of the Daily Prophet. “I have several tryouts to go to in the coming weeks. I’ll be sure to write you all with news of which team I select.”

“Which team _you’ll_ select?” said Andrea, laughing. “I see you’ve gotten your confidence back! Good, you were getting tiresome – being a grouch all of the time. I much prefer you like this, even if you are a bit of a snot.” 

Roger shot Andrea a dirty look, but she thought she caught a glimpse of a smile as he hid behind his newspaper. 

Around lunchtime, they all decided that it was no good waiting for the trolley witch to roll all the way down to the end of the train where their compartment was. None of them had eaten a proper breakfast, as they were too nervous at the prospect of leaving Hogwarts to stomach much. 

“I’ll go,” said Andrea, standing up. “I know what everyone likes. You can just pay be back later.”

“Alright, but do hurry back,” said Roger, “I am starving. And _do_ make sure that my pumpkin pasty isn’t dented.”

Rolling her eyes, Andrea slid out of the compartment and made her way towards the front of the train where the lunch trolley undoubtedly was. Andrea waved at Ginny, as she passed by her compartment, then jogged though several train cars until Andrea finally found the lunch trolley.

There was already a small crowd gathered around it, so Andrea counted out her money for all the food she would be buying.

“Excuse me,” said Andrea to the trolley witch, who had just finished attending a young Hufflepuff girl, “I have my money counted out and I have a big order. I need eight pumpkin pasties, two cauldron cakes, a licorice wand, and four apples. Do you mind if I just pay you and grab the food myself?”

“Alright dear,” said the witch taking Andrea’s money and continuing to attend to the crowd before her.

“Cutting in line? Quite a smooth move, Andrea. Very efficient indeed,” said a familiar voice beside her. 

Blaise. She had successfully avoided him thus far since the day in Snape’s private stores, but it seemed that he had finally caught up with her. Andrea turned to face Blaise, who was smiling down at her in a rather smug way. She turned away from him, busying herself with collecting her order. She refused to play his game.

“Is that it, then?” said Blaise quietly, “You are no longer speaking to me? I quite hoped we could still be friends.”

“ _I_ too had wanted to be friends,” said Andrea sharply, rounding on Blaise, “But it seems clear to me now that this was all a game to you. I see – you’re quite cunning. I’ll give you that. You made friends with me to manipulate me into crawling into bed with you. You never really wanted to be my friend. You never _really_ gave a damn about me, did you?”

Blaise stared at her, eyes widened slightly, taken completely aback. Andrea did not entirely believe what she was saying, but she was angry at him for ruining the friendship that she had thought they were building. 

“You can’t actually believe that,” said Blaise, after a moment. “I explained to you fully my intentions and feelings towards you, Andrea. I’ve only ever been open with you.”

“Well, even still,” said Andrea grabbing the last of her things and walking away from the trolley back down the corridor, “I told you that I wasn’t willing to buy into all of your polygamous ideologies. You didn’t have permission to kiss me. Now we _can’t_ be friends.” 

“Andrea,” said Blaise, seeming to forget his purchase at the trolley and following closely beside Andrea, “You, in fact, _did not_ tell me that you weren’t willing. You didn’t say anything. I simply wanted to give you a taste – ”

“Of what? Your kiss?” hissed Andrea, spinning around to stand in his way, “You don’t just kiss people without asking! Especially people who are in a relationship and trapped in a dark room with you! Did you think about how it would make me feel? Did you hope to confuse me?”

“Were you confused?” asked Blaise, raising a dubious brow, “Had you rejected my kiss I would not have persisted, but you succumbed to me – quite easily, in fact. When you returned my kiss I could feel your longing. It felt right, and I am fairly certain that you know that. That’s why you’re angry with me. Because I made you want two men at once, and that makes you uncomfortable. I can understand that, but I think it’s something that everyone could get used to.”

“I _know_ that you think that, and you’re missing the point!” said Andrea, feeling slightly frustrated at how well Blaise could see through her. “Regardless of your feelings, or of mine, I am telling you now that I cannot go on spending time with someone who might jump me at any moment. Or to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know that it would get any easier for _me_ either. Not when you keep laying it on thick like you’ve been doing. Had you not kissed me things might be different, but I can’t be your friend anymore.”

Blaise looked down at Andrea thoughtfully, frowning slightly. 

“I kissed you,” said Blaise in a low voice, “Because I knew it was likely that we would not meet frequently from then on. To be out of sight is to be out of mind. I wanted to give you something to think of. I wanted to ensure that you would not forget our bond as time passes. I knew that it was a risk, but I still believe that I made the right choice. I am sorry that you do not wish to be my friend, but I do believe that with time, that very well may change. I want you to know, Andrea, that I will always be around when you want or need me.” 

Andrea tentatively stared up into Blaise’s black eyes. It was clear that he was a man with many walls built up within him, but there was warmth and the slightest hint of pain hidden deep behind his cool and confident façade. 

“I’m also sorry that we can’t be friends,” said Andrea softly, “And I wouldn’t have forgotten about you… So I’m sorry to say that you spoiled our friendship for nothing. Maybe, one day, we could be friends again, but not anytime soon.” 

“For nothing?” said Blaise with a smirk, taking a step closer to Andrea, “Now, Andrea, we both know that’s simply not true.” 

Andrea stepped backwards. She was not going to let him try kissing her again. She was certain he was wanting to, and she would not give him the chance. 

“Bye, Blaise,” said Andrea turning away from him, “Good luck with your last years at Hogwarts…”

Before Andrea could walk away, however, Blaise grabbed her by the hand and pulled her towards him. 

“We will see each other much sooner than that, mark my words,” said Blaise, slowly raising her hand to his lips and gently kissing it. 

Andrea met his gaze for a few moments, then pulled her hand away, which Blaise quickly released. He took a step back and smiled at her knowingly for a moment, then quickly bowed his head and walked back towards the food trolley.

Andrea’s head was starting to hurt. She hurried back toward the compartment with all of the food, resisting the urge to look back. How had she ever landed herself in this situation? It had _technically_ ended, she supposed, but she could not deny that her chest tightened slightly when she thought about it. 

“What, in Merlin’s name, took you so bloody long?” said Roger as Andrea entered their compartment, snatching his food from her. 

“Don’t be so ungrateful,” said Andrea, passing out the rest of the food before sitting down and taking a bite out of a cauldron cake. “There were a lot of people, and the trolley still is nowhere near here, so you’d better not complain.” 

“I think Roger needs a girlfriend,” laughed Jamie, winking quickly at Eliza, “It’ll help unwind that uptight little head of yours. You haven’t dated anyone in a while! You should go ask out Cho before we get off of the train! I know you’ve been wanting to try again. She’s single again I hear.” 

“Maybe I will,” said Roger thoughtfully, “Yes, I’ll go and do that now.”

Without another word, Roger stuffed the rest of this pasty in his mouth and marched out of the compartment into the corridor. 

“Well, that takes care of _him_ , doesn’t it?” giggled Jamie. 

Andrea, Eliza, and Jamie enjoyed the rest of the trip talking and playing exploding snap. Roger must have been successful asking Cho out, as he never returned to the compartment, and Andrea only saw him again on the platform when the Hogwarts Express pulled in. 

Andrea hugged each of her friends in turn, holding back the tears which threatened to spill out at any moment. 

“I’ll miss you all so much, but we will see each other often, right?” said Andrea as she pulled Eliza into a tight hug.

“Of course,” said Roger, wrapping his arms around them both. “And you all better show up to my Quidditch games or I’ll take it personally.”

Jamie, who was sobbing uncontrollably now, pulled Andrea into her arms and planted a wet, tearful kiss on her cheek. “We’ll – we’ll _s-s-_ see each other every month, right? Promise?”

“We promise,” said Andrea, pulling away from her friends and picking up Hugan in his cage. “See you on the 30th!” 

Andrea waved goodbye and proceeded to search for George on the platform. Not far away, she spotted Mrs. Weasley, who pulled Ginny into a tight hug and was fussing over Ronald. 

“ _Pssst_!” said a voice somewhere behind Andrea, “Over here!” 

She saw a hand waving out from behind a pillar a few meters away. Andrea loaded her things onto a trolley, pushed it ahead of her, and quickly rounded the pillar to find George standing with his back pressed firmly against it. 

“George! I – ” 

“ _Shh_!” said George, putting a finger to his lips, “I’m glad to see you, lovely, but I can’t come out until Mum’s gone! I doubt this is the best time to catch up with her.” 

“Alright then,” said Andrea, giddy with the excitement of reuniting with George and from the wild emotions flying about inside of her because of her departure from Hogwarts and her friends. “I’ll stand watch… They’re walking away… They’re gone!” 

George peeked around the pillar to make sure the coast was clear, then jumped out and stood before Andrea. They stared at each other for a moment. It had felt like so long since she had seen him last. He was somehow more beautiful now than she remembered him being; tall and bright – like a great, warm flame. 

Suddenly, Andrea hurled herself into his arms, squeezing him tight. He was warm and solid and he smelled like home. 

“I’ve missed you so much, _Jaanu,_ ” Andrea whispered into his chest. 

George gripped Andrea at the base of her head and tilted it back so that she was forced to meet his eyes. 

“I’ve been mad lonely without you, love,” said George, before leaning down and kissing Andrea as fervently as they could get away with in public. 

As he pulled away, Andrea saw, from over George’s shoulder, Blaise stepping off of the train with the last of the disembarking students. As if he could feel her gaze, Blaise met her eyes. He smiled with a nod at George’s back, as if to once again encourage her to ask George about having an open relationship. 

Andrea glared at Blaise, warningly, as George reached down to pick up a bag that had been knocked off of her trolley. She watched (and faintly heard) Blaise laugh to himself. He shook his head, raising his eyebrows and smiling at Andrea, then he nodded at her shortly before striding off towards the exit. 

“Ready to go?” said George, winding an arm around Andrea’s waist and pushing her trolley with one hand. 

“Yes, my love,” said Andrea, glancing back at the Hogwarts Express one last time, “More than ready.” 

* * *

“Thank you boys _so_ much!” said Radhika as Fred and George loaded the last of the suitcases into the magically expanded trunk of a car that one of the Weasley family’s many connections had leant them. “You two are really just _too_ sweet!” 

“It’s nothing, Mrs. Clearwater,” said Fred, slamming the trunk shut and patting twice it for good measure. “Always glad to be of service!” 

“Oh yes,” said Radhika nodding approvingly, with her hands on her hips, “You did well with _this_ one Andrea.”

“Actually Ma,” said Andrea smirking at George, “Not _that_ one – it the other one.” 

Her mother turned towards her, folded her arms across her chest, and raised a stern eyebrow at Andrea in silence. They were all dressed in muggle clothes for the trip over to Andrea’s grandparent’s country home. They needed to travel this way for Dad’s sake, plus it was easier with all of the luggage in the end. 

Frida and her family had moved there two days after You-Know-Who showed up in the Ministry of Magic, so it would just be her father and her mother driving out. They had left the majority of their belongings in their apartment, but her mother insisted upon bringing her cookware and _all_ of her clothing so packing took much longer than Andrea would have liked. 

“Thank you boys!” said Robert, shaking the twin’s hands in turn, “You kids take care, please. Andrea, please try and make it out at least once every couple of weeks like we discussed. If anything happens, just close down the shop and come stay with us.” 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Clearwater,” said George, “We will take care of her… If she needs it – she’s quite good at taking care of herself!” 

Andrea kissed her parents goodbye and watched as the sedan rolled away from the Leaky Cauldron towards the North. 

“Well,” said George, wrapping an arm around Andrea, “That’s that, then. I feel good about it, don’t you? They’ll be much farther from trouble now.”

“True,” said Fred, “But I’d bet you don’t mind having them out of the house much do ya, Georgie? Now you don’t have to worry about Mrs. Clearwater walking in while you two are – ”

“Let’s go, guys,” said Andrea, cutting Fred off before he could say something unseemly, “I’m going to make paneer tonight – if you two want to eat with me feel free.”

“Nah,” said Fred, as they walked back through the Leaky Cauldron from the London street to Diagon Alley, “The spicey food doesn’t agree with my digestive system, I’m afraid (and considering that George has the same digestive system as I do, I figure he’s not much better off), and I think I’ll let you two have a romantic evening on your own before the funeral tomorrow – that is if George doesn’t spend the whole evening on the toilet.”

“Who’s funeral?” asked Andrea, feeling somewhat alarmed, “I didn’t know you two had to go to a funeral.”

“Ours,” said George, before taking a peek into the Quidditch shop window as they passed by. “We wanted to go see Mum tomorrow. She’s going to kill us.”

“Yeah,” said Fred, “We reckon she’s got something awful planned for when we finally show our faces over there.”

“You know,” said Andrea, smiling to herself as she thought about how _her_ mother would react to her dropping out of Hogwarts and disappearing for several months, “The longer you wait, the worse it will be.”

“You _get_ it,” said George, laughing. 

They said ‘goodbye’ to Fred at the doors to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and made their way up the street to Timeless Teas, where she now lived alone – apart from her pets. 

Andrea opened the shop door and lead the way up the stairwell to the kitchen where George helped her to make dinner. 

“Thanks for the help,” said Andrea, waving her wand at a knife so that it began cutting up an onion, “I really can manage on my own. I said I would cook for you, anyway.”

“I really don’t mind,” said George, slicing up some paneer by hand, “I really could stand to learn a thing or two from you about cooking as it is.”

“If you had just taken Advanced Charms you’d be better off,” said Andrea, as she stood back to let her magic do the rest of the work. “You’re smart enough to have taken it, but I don’t mind helping you learn.”

Andrea sat down and watched the kitchen whirr with activity; George nearly got hammered on the head by a sauce pan that flew from the countertop to the stove, but he was too quick and ducked just in time.

“Looks like my time dodging bludgers paid off at least,” said George, joining Andrea at the table so as to get out of the way. 

Andrea looked around the empty kitchen flat. It was oddly quiet and still. 

“It’s so strange not having Mum and Dad here,” said Andrea softly, as Millie trotted in from the stairwell door carrying a dead Cornish pixie in her jaws. “It’s quiet. It’s like the house is dead, and I’m a ghost left to haunt the place from where the rest of my loved ones have already moved on.” 

“That’s pretty dark, love,” said George, raising an eyebrow, “It’s not so bad! You’ve got your cats and your birds – and me! Do you really think I’m going to let you sleep here all _alone_ ? No way! If its fine with you, I think I’ll just camp here with you most nights – our flat at the shop is pretty cramped and I’d much rather sleep with _you_ than Fred. What do ya say?”

The weight that had been steadily growing on Andrea’s chest lifted. She knew that staying in her home without her family could be lonely – or even frightening at times, especially in these dark times – but she had not been entirely prepared for how empty the place would feel. If George stayed with her, she would have something to look forward to every day after work other than locking herself up in her flat to hide in a book or two for the rest of the night. 

“I’d love that,” said Andrea, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. “Let’s go straight up to bed after dinner. I’m exhausted.

After a hot meal, Andrea and George slowly made their way up to Andrea’s flat where Hugan waited patiently for them, perched on one of the swinging bars of his ceiling jungle-gym. 

Andrea lit the fire in the fireplace before trotting over to join George in her soft, welcoming bed.

“How long do you think the world will be like this?” asked Andrea, as she scooted close and laid her head on George’s chest. “You-Know-Who is publicly back, but not much has happened yet… Of course things are going to get worse, but I really hope they get better someday. I’m afraid, George. I feel like we are waiting on the sidelines – to stand back and watch as the world as we know it comes to an end.”

“Don’t think like that, love,” said George against the top of Andrea’s head, “I think there’s hope yet. I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but I know some people who have been spending a whole lot of time resisting ever since He came back. If things do get bad then we can just do the best we can to fight back. I’m with you, love – don’t be afraid.

George tipped Andrea’s chin up so that she was forced to look into his eyes. Her eyes were burning. Her heart felt heavy as the weight of their uncertain future became insupportable. 

“Let’s forget about that for a while, yeah?” said George smiling softly as his eyes scanned her face. “These thoughts aren’t going to help you sleep any better.

He kissed her softly on the forehead, then her lips. 

“I love you,” said George, their foreheads pressed together, “I love you like mad, Andrea, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you or your family. We will trust in each other and support each other. We’re both pretty smart, you and I. I’m sure that we will be strong enough to get through this together. 

“And in the meantime,” said George, taking another kiss from Andrea – deeper and longer than the last, “I want to enjoy you as much as possible.” 

George was right. Brooding about the uncertainties of the world was not going to do her any good. He was with her, and his voice and his touch were both comforting and arousing. She could spend every night with him now, and the thought of waking up next to him each day was exhilarating.

“I love you, and…” said Andrea quietly, cheeks burning with increasing desire, “I’d like you to _enjoy_ me too…” 

“Oh yeah?” said George with a grin, “Good.”

George took Andrea’s hair and swept it up into his grip, running his hands down its length from scalp to ends, passing the hair from hand to hand until finally letting it fall onto the bed behind her. Andrea closed her eyes and dug her fingers into his robes.

Andrea took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and felt much of the tension which had been gripping her all day evaporating at his touch. She felt his lips as he leaned down to kiss her and pulled her tightly into his warm, firm arms. 

He made her feel so safe – like the troubles of the world could not reach her in the refuge of his presence. She wanted to be close to him and to provide him with the same feeling of solidarity that she felt. She trusted him more than she ever thought possible and, as his lips moved slowly with hers, Andrea realized that he had finally penetrated the barriers that she had so carefully constructed to protect her heart. 

Feeling suddenly free from her previous inhibitions, Andrea quickly sat up, pulling off her robes and underthings, and sat before George, lit only by the firelight which danced across her bare skin. 

George scanned Andrea up and down appreciatively before taking her hand in his and lacing his fingers through hers.

“I reckon I’m the luckiest bloke there is,” he said, staring up into her eyes. 

He looked like he might say more, but Andrea was not in the mood to chat. Instead, crawled onto his lap, straddled him, and leaned down and kissed him hard. She wanted him urgently, and she was not going to wait for him to initiate. It had been so long…

Within moments, she felt him pressing slowly inside of her as they kissed. With a sharp gasp, the resistance suddenly gave way, and she was rocking up and down as his warm hands gripped her hips firmly. 

“I’ve missed this…” Andrea heard herself say, as her body jolted rhythmically on the spot. 

She closed her eyes, fully giving in to the sensations and emotion that filled her mind. Andrea was not sure how much time passed during their blissful union, but she reached her peaks of pleasure several times before George met his. 

Andrea fell in an exhausted heap, shrouded in a thin film of perspiration, by George’s side. 

“Mmm…” hummed George with a smile in his voice, as he scooped her into his arms once more, “You are so good my love. Now I can die happy… You know? When Mum finishes me off tomorrow.” 

“Oh, George,” Andrea mumbled from her pillow, “She loves you – she’ll forgive you. I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“You _clearly_ don’t know her, then” said George, “It’s not going to be easy, that’s for sure…” 

“How long are you staying?” asked Andrea. She hoped it was not long. She really could get used to having him there with her. 

“We’re thinking a week or two,” said George, pulling the blankets up over them both and laying on his side to face Andrea, “I have a thought… Remember the letter I sent you a bit ago? Maybe you could come along! Just close the shop for a couple weeks, no big deal! Fred and I already have a load of mail orders shipping out – even to the Ministry if you can believe it! They really liked our Shield Hats for their staff. We can open back up together when we get back – your shop and mine! What do ya say?” 

“So you intend to use _me_ as a human shield?” laughed Andrea, “Is that it? And what about Fred, is he going to bring Angelina as well, or am I a shield for you both?”

“A shield? Never!” said George, doing his far from his best at sounding innocent. “What do you think of me!? I’m simply bringing you home to meet my mother… And well, she doesn’t know about _us_ yet and I figure I might as well tell her about that too now that we are coming out with all of the rest of it! Angelina’s not coming, though. She had the same idea about it as you.” 

“But even you said that you thought she would be more lenient on you if I was there – in the letter that you sent me!” said Andrea, laughing to herself at George’s questionable manipulation techniques. 

“Well, to be honest, it would probably help. She won’t want to raise such a fuss in front of you,” said George, taking her hand gently in his. “So yeah, that’s part of it, but really love, I want them to know about us now. Will you come?” 

“Fine,” said Andrea, thinking that a week at the Burrow might just be exactly what she needed anyway. She did not exactly fancy staying in the apartment all alone – regardless of all her assurances to her parents that she did not mind – and a week in the country would surely refresh her. “I’ll go, but don’t expect me to stand in between your mother and you when she exacts her vengeance on you.”

“I knew I could count on you,” said George with a sly wink, “Besides, I’ve always wanted a _girl_ in my room… Ouch!” 

Andrea pinched George on the nipple sharply then turned her back to him and snuggled in closely. 

“Good night, _jaanu_ ,” said Andrea, closing her eyes, “You owe me big for this.” 

Andrea drifted off to sleep before George could answer, and did not wake up again until the sun was already shining high in the sky through her windows. 

She opened her eyes to find George up and about, piling her robes haphazardly into an open suitcase. 

“ ‘Morning, love,” said George, noticing that Andrea was up and leaning down for a kiss, “I’ve taken the liberty of packing your things for you! I wasn’t sure what you’d like to wear, so I just packed a variety.”

“Erm… thanks,” said Andrea with a yawn and a glance at her best robes which were crammed into the luggage in a crumpled mass. “I guess you’re in a hurry to leave then…”

“A bit,” said George, snapping the bag shut and reaching upwards to coax Hugin off of his perch into his cage. “I’m hoping to be there before Mum starts on lunch – if we interrupt her while she’s cooking she won’t thank us for that. I picked up some tea and a couple of egg sandwiches from the Leaky Cauldron earlier – eat up!”

Andrea got up and sat down on the balcony to watch the street traffic below, leaving the door behind her so that she could talk to George as she ate.

“I really cannot _believe_ that you went out for tea!” said Andrea, taking a sip of her English breakfast tea, “This is a _tea_ shop! Don’t tell me you don’t know how to make tea!”

“Erm, of course I do!” said George, setting Hugin’s cage (bird within) back on the floor, “I just figured you might, er, want something different for a change. Say, Andrea, are you going to leave your cats here or what?”

“Yeah, they’ll be fine,” said Andrea, ignoring George’s quick change of subject, “Their food bowls are enchanted to refill when they’re empty from the barrel downstairs. They may be mad when we get back though…”

“Well, we’re all set in that case,” said George, coming out onto the balcony and sitting across from Andrea. “I’ve already posted a notice on the shop door, so you just have to lock up once you’re all ready to go, and we can head down to Wheezes to meet with Fred. We’re thinking of using floo powder to get there if that’s alright by you.” 

“Sure, why not,” said Andrea, taking a last bite of her sandwich before getting up from the table, “I’m going to get showered and dressed – _you_ wait here, please. You’ve already made it plain that we’re in a rush, and I don’t want you getting any _ideas_.” 

“Alright, alright,” laughed George, “I’ll be good! I promise I won’t peek!” 

After Andrea was dressed, she said farewell to her cats (the owls were with her parents and Frida), locked up the shop, and headed down sunny Diagon Alley to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes with George. 

“Morning, lovebirds,” said Fred with a sly grin, as he opened up the front door for Andrea and George to pass inside with her luggage and Hugin. “You two get a final kiss in, because it may well be your last!”

“It may indeed, Fred,” said George, leaning down and stealing a quick kiss from Andrea before leading the way to the downstairs fireplace. 

The shop looked so different since the last time that she had been there – it was full, ceiling to floor with the greatest assortment of brightly-colored joke products that Andrea had ever seen. She would surely like to explore later when she had more time, as she had been so busy the past few days helping her parents prepare to leave that she had not had the chance to visit George’s shop. 

Andrea watched as Fred pulled a little pouch from his pocket and flashed its bright-green contents at Andrea with a wink. 

“Ready for this, Clearwater?” asked Fred, offering her a pinch of floo powder.

“She _does_ know that we’re coming?” asked Andrea, looking from George to Fred, who exchanged a quick nervous glance in response. 

“Well, not _exactly_ ,” said George, somewhat hesitantly.

“And by that, he means: no, she doesn’t,” said Fred, patting his brother on the shoulder resolutely. 

“So we are just going to walk straight into her living room, then?” said Andrea, aghast. She thought that they had at least hinted to their mother about their arrival. “Isn’t that a bit rude?”

“Too late for courtesy now, I’m afraid,” said Fred, forcing a pinch of powder into Andrea’s hand. “Ladies first! What? We’ll be right behind you with the luggage.”

Andrea did not like this plan in the slightest, but the sooner it was over with the better. Andrea shot George a look of disdain, then sprinkled the floo powder into the fire before her.

“The Burrow,” said Andrea, and waited for the flames to turn green before taking Hugin’s cage from the floor and stepping in. 

It was like whirling down a bathtub drain, so Andrea closed her eyes tightly, held the squawking Hugin’s cage tight to her chest, and waited for the world to become still at last, stepping forward as she felt her body come to a halt. 

Andrea was suddenly standing in front of the Weasley’s cozy kitchen fireplace, facing the breakfast table, and (to Andrea’s horror) Mrs. Weasley herself. 

Mrs. Weasley’s back had been to Andrea when she had first stepped forward, but Hugin’s renewed screeching had caused Mrs. Weasley to jump and whirl around to face her. 

Andrea smiled sheepishly at Mrs. Weasley, as her initial fear at Andrea’s sudden appearance turned to confusion.

“Andrea, dear?” said Mrs. Weasley, thumping a hand to her chest and slipping her wand back into her apron pocket. “Whatever are you doing here, dear? Is it… Percy? Has something happened? Where’s Penelope?”

“No, Mrs. Weasley,” said Andrea awkwardly, realizing that the twins had remained behind for a suspiciously long amount of time. “I don’t really see much of either of them anymore, to be honest, but I heard from Penelope a week ago and they are fine.

Andrea rocked back and forth on the spot, glancing at the fireplace behind her. What were they doing? Mrs. Weasley continued to stare at Andrea in wonder and concern. She could not believe the twins – that _George_ – had sent her ahead to do their dirty work.

“Mrs. Weasley,” said Andrea softly, “I’m very sorry to barge in here like this… but, well… you see they sent me ahead of them so…”

“ _Who_?” asked Mrs. Weasley, hurrying over to survey Andrea up and down with great concern, “Who sent you, dear?”

Andrea had just opened her mouth to speak when George, then Fred, came stumbling carelessly out of the fireplace behind her, tracking hefty quantities of ash onto Mrs. Weasley’s sparkling floors in their wake. 

The twins brushed themselves off and set the luggage down onto the floor, hardly glancing up at Mrs. Weasley as she stood before them, as pale as a ghost and trembling with shock and, perhaps, something far less pleasant. 

“Hey, Mum,” said George in his most cheery of voices, stepping beside Andrea and taking her hand in his, “Long time no see, eh? I see you’ve already been catching up with, Andrea – she’s my girlfriend, did you know?” 

Andrea could hardly watch, for embarrassment, as Mrs. Weasley’s face went from pale, to red, then at the word ‘girlfriend,’ normalized to an almost usual complexion. It was clear that Mrs. Weasley was at war with herself internally – she obviously was furious at the twins, but she was also relieved to see them safe and shocked to find that George was in his first relationship. 

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have shorted out, unable to speak, and might have imploded if Ginny hadn’t entered the kitchen at that precise moment. 

“Fred, George! Andrea!” said Ginny, who grinned and ran over to hug each of them in turn. Mrs. Weasley collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, lowered her head, and covered her eyes with a hand. “I didn’t know you were coming! Wicked! Andrea, are these your bags? Come with me, you can take them up to my room!”

Glad to be away from Mrs. Weasley, Andrea followed Ginny towards the stairs which lead up to the bedrooms.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” said Fred to George in low voice, and hurrying behind the girls, “Let’s get out of here before she – ”

“STOP!” bellowed Mrs. Weasley, who was suddenly on her feet once more and was breathing quite heavily, as she glowered at the twins. “Not. Another. Step.”

“What’s all the shouting for, Molly,” said Mr. Weasley, dressed in light gardening robes, and who had just stepped in from outside, holding a writhing, cursing garden gnome, to look around the kitchen. His eyes moved from Mrs. Weasley, slowly to the twins, to Andrea and Ginny, then then back to George and Fred. 

“ _Let’s go!”_ whispered Ginny, in Andrea’s ear.

Andrea glanced back to meet George’s eye, but he seemed to be entirely frozen by his mother’s murderous manner. Ginny took her by the hand, pulling her up the stairs which wound around and around above them (much like the stairs in Andrea’s home) until they reached Ginny’s room on the first floor. 

Even behind Ginny’s closed door, Andrea could easily hear Mrs. Weasley shouting at the twins below. 

“YOU WERE _GONE_ FOR _MONTHS!_ NO _WORD! –_ STRUTTING INTO MY HOUSE LIKE _NOTHING HAS HAPPENED! – SO WORRIED! – LEFT HOGWARTS! HOW_ COULD YOU _DO SUCH A THING_ TO YOUR _POOR FATHER!”_

Andrea heard a loud crash from below and the sound of thudding footsteps gave the impression that the twins were dodging jinxes around the kitchen table. 

“ _OH_! I OUGHT TO – ”

Ginny caught Andrea’s eye and grimaced. 

“Well, I think we’d best say up here for a while. Mum’s not going to let them off easy, and I expect Dad has a thing or two to say two once she’s had a go at them. Sit down! Make yourself at home.”

Ginny’s room was small, but had space enough in the bed for both of them and a nice view of the garden from her bedroom window. Andrea opened Hugin’s cage and let him out the window. He was gone in a flash and did not look back – the floo powder and shouting had been too much for him. 

With a sigh, Andrea took a seat on the edge of Ginny’s bed and gazed across the room through the window at the Weasley’s orchard, the fluffy green trees lit brightly by the early-July sun. 

“HOLD – _STILL_ ! _OH_ IF I FIND OUT THAT _MUNDUNGUS_ HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH THAT MONEY!” 

Andrea was shaken by the sound of more shouting and a loud _bang_ , followed by the sound of feet scampering down the stairs outside Ginny’s door.

“That’ll be Ron,” said Ginny, as she flipped absentmindedly through a copy of _The Quibbler_. “He’s finally decided to go down and investigate. Good luck to him.” 

“Why didn’t you tell your mum what the twins were up to?” asked Andrea, lying back on Ginny’s bed beside her. “You knew didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I knew,” said Ginny, shrugging, “But I’m no snitch. Anyway, I figured that she would probably get in the way of their plans and made them go back to school.”

“ _AT LEAST?”_ shouted Mrs. Weasley, who had once again stared bellowing at the top of her lungs, “AT LEAST YOU WEREN’T EXPELLED? I OUGHT TO EXPELL YOU _MYSELF_ ! _GIVE_ ME YOUR WANDS!! THAT’S _IT_!!” 

Andrea cast Ginny a worried glance, but Ginny waved it away.

“She’s just letting off steam,” said Ginny, “I doubt that she’d actually break their wands. She’ll have calmed down at least by dinner time. How long are you planning on staying?”

“George wants to stay at least two weeks,” said Andrea, taking note of the many gleaming Quidditch posters which Ginny had decorated her room with. “I figured I could use some time away from home… and George thought that I might somewhat pacify your mum with my presence.”

“He’s probably not entirely wrong, believe it or not,” said Ginny, sitting up and peeking out her window. “She’s told me a couple times that she thought it would do the twins some good to find ‘a nice young lady’ to keep an eye on each of them. She worries about them, but I think she’ll realize soon enough that they’re doing better off than most. Speaking of which – have you seen their shop yet?”

“Yeah I have,” said Andrea, “It’s really amazing. I haven’t had much time to spend there yet, but when I get back home I’m definitely going to have a better look. You should come with us and see for yourself.”

“I think I will!” said Ginny brightly, before getting to her feet and slipping on some shoes. “You want to go for a walk with me? It’s so nice out and it’d be a shame to stay cooped up here with all this screeching.”

“Yes, please,” said Andrea getting up and hurrying over to the door with Ginny. They pressed their ears to the door and listened. They could hear both Weasley parents speaking in harsh tones, but at least Mrs. Weasley had stopped shrieking for the moment.

“I think we can make it unnoticed if we’re quick about it,” whispered Ginny, who opened the door and quickly led the way down the stairs, and they both dashed downstairs towards the side door glancing quickly back to check if they had been noticed. 

“Actually Dad,” Ronald piped in from the doorway to the kitchen not far behind them, “Harry was the one who gave them the gold. So, no harm done!” 

Just before the door clicked shut behind Andrea, Mrs. Weasley’s voice boomed once more.

“YOU ACCEPTED ONE _THOUSAND_ GALLEONS FROM _HARRY POTTER?!_ ” 

Andrea trotted quickly behind Ginny through the tall, springy grass to a stone path which lead past the garden and pond, then out the front gate, scattering a group of nearby chickens this way and that. 

“Come on!” said Ginny as she trotted ahead of Andrea up a steep, green hill full of wildflowers, bees, and the chirping of crickets. Andrea hurried behind Ginny and met her at the top.

“Wow, I forget how pretty this area is,” said Andrea, looking out over the vivid, grassy hills that dotted the horizon. 

“Yeah, it’s nice,” said Ginny, linking her arm through Andrea’s and walking along the hilltop. “I have a particular route I like to take – it’s not too hard, but it should kill some time and it’s pretty scenic.”

Andrea and Ginny spent a good two hours roaming the countryside before heading back to the Burrow, stopping to dip their feet in shallow creeks and pick some fresh apples from the Weasley’s orchard. 

They crept quietly through the garden to peep through the window of the kitchen door, but the most notable sound was the jabbering of a couple of garden gnomes that were struggling to climb inside some wellington boots that sat by the door. 

After some deliberation, they decided to enter the house and get themselves a snack, as they had forgone a proper lunch. Andrea sat down at the wooden table while Ginny prepared a plate of cheese, fruit, and bread with some tea. 

There was no sign of life around until the kettle, that Ginny used to boil the tea water, whistled loudly, breaking the silence. 

“There you two are,” said Mrs. Weasley, bustling into the kitchen from the living room, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you girls!”

“Sorry, Mum,” said Ginny, “We were taking a walk, you know, to get out for a bit…” 

“Oh yes, sure you were. Yes,” said Mrs. Weasley, looking down at Andrea where she sat and seeming somewhat embarrassed. “Andrea dear, I’m sorry not to have given you a proper welcome before, but I’m sure you understand that I had to take care of my sons. I _am_ so pleased that you and George are getting along – yes, quite pleased, indeed.” 

“Thank you Mrs. Weasley,” said Andrea, still feeling a bit like she was intruding on a family affair, “I am the one who should be apologizing – I should not have come unannounced. I thought that they would have told you by now that they were coming. I – ”

“Oh nonsense!” said Mrs. Weasley, rushing over and giving Andrea a tight hug, “You are more than welcome here any time. I am told that you will be staying for two weeks with us? Yes? Excellent. We are most happy to have you here!”

“Where is Mr. Weasley?” asked Andrea, looking around Mrs. Weasley for any sign of the twins or their father. 

“Oh, he’s supervising at the moment,” said Mrs. Weasley suddenly with a rather vindictive glint in her eye, “I’ve got the boys shoveling out the chicken coop this afternoon and I want to make sure that no magic is used – whether they are of age or not!” 

“So you all have made amends, then?” said Ginny, pouring Andrea a cup of tea.

“Hm!” said Mrs. Weasley indignantly, placing her fists on plump hips, “We shall have to see about _that_.” 

Mrs. Weasley gave the pair a dark, meaningful look, then put on a sun-hat that was hanging on a hook by the door and let herself out, presumably, to assist in overseeing the twin’s punishment. 

Andrea and Ginny spent the remainder of the afternoon sitting in the garden by the pond with a pitcher of pumpkin juice playing exploding snap and watching the pond’s bullfrogs sunbathing on the banks (that is, when they could go unnoticed by the garden gnomes). 

“What do you suppose the boys are doing now?” asked Andrea, watching as a gnome fell face first into the pond as it chased after a particularly pump bullfrog. “It’s been ages since they started cleaning the chicken coop. It’s nearly dinnertime.”

“Who can tell,” said Ginny, tossing down a card before it could explode in her hand, “But the good news is that Mum will be a lot more relaxed after a full day of teaching the twins a lesson. She might even be willing to get over it sometime this year.” 

The sun was soon setting behind the grassy country hills and the crickets and fireflies had come out for the evening, so Andrea and Ginny decided to turn in and help with dinner. 

“Looks like Mum’s already started cooking,” said Ginny as they walked back to the house, “Do you smell that? Mmm, I think she’s making meat pie.” 

Andrea and Ginny entered the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley hovering over Fred and George (who looked as worn down and disheveled as Andrea had ever seen them) as they peeled and chopped vegetables for her. 

“Don’t cut the onions so large, Fred,” said Mrs. Weasley, inspecting his handywork and appearing extremely pleased with the twins’ response to her punishments. “Smaller chunks, please dear.”

“Yes, Mum,” grumbled Fred, rubbing his eyes on his sleeve. 

“Hey everyone,” said Ginny, taking a seat at the kitchen table. 

George looked up from plucking a chicken, and met Andrea’s eyes.

“Hey, love,” said George with a weak smile, “I’ve missed ya.”

Mrs. Weasley looked somewhat frantically around the room for who George was calling ‘love,’ but as she followed George’s gaze to Andrea, her cheeks turned slightly pink and she bustled over to the stove smiling to herself. 

Mrs. Weasley finally freed the twins from their punishment once the dishes from dinner were all handwashed and dried. “Now straight to bed you boys, I want you up early to help your father de-gnome the garden. We’re starting to have a real infestation again.”

“But Mum,” groaned Fred, drying the last of the plates with a rag, “Can’t you cut us a break, now? We’ve already done enough cleaning to last a year, and we’ve said we’re sorry already!”

“Whether you’re sorry has nothing to do with it!” said Mrs. Weasley, shooing them out of the kitchen towards the stairs. “It simply needs to get done! Now up to bed.”

“Why doesn’t Ron lend a hand?” asked George, stopping on the stairs to wait for Andrea to catch up to him and take his hand. “He’s been lazing around this whole time!”

“You can _all_ help, then!” snapped Mrs. Weasley, eyeing Andrea and George suspiciously as George held Andrea’s hand to his lips. “And there will be no need to leave your rooms in the night! We all are will be having an early start. Are you all settled in Ginny’s room, Andrea dear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrea, smiling as politely as she could. She really wanted a chance to talk to George on her own before he was swept away from her again. “Good night, I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Good night you lot,” said Mrs. Weasley, walking past the stairs towards the living area, “I’m going to have a chat with Arthur before bed.”

Andrea reluctantly left George at Ginny’s door before entering and taking a seat on the edge of Ginny’s bed. Ginny was already brushing out her hair in front of her mirror when Andrea entered. She met her eye in the reflection, and Ginny smiled knowingly at her. 

“You know,” said Ginny, as she pulled out a set of pajamas and stepped into them, “I’m _no_ snitch Andrea. Percy’s room is abandoned and is across the way from the twins’.”

“Won’t your mom notice?” asked Andrea, not really wanting to be caught on Mrs. Weasley’s bad side. 

“She’ll probably ask me how you slept tomorrow,” said Ginny with a sly smile. “I’ll just tell her you slept as well as our attic ghoul. Not a lie, really. How should I know, right?” 

“I don’t know,” said Andrea hesitantly. It was a serious temptation. 

“They’re just upstairs,” said Ginny eagerly, “On the second floor. Just go up there, before Mum goes to bed. She wouldn’t dream that you two would be in Percy’s old room, but she’ll probably check Bill and Charlie’s room on the third floor so don’t let George talk you into going up there.” 

“Oh, alright,” said Andrea, resolving to take the risk – at least for that night. She had not had proper chance to talk to George since the morning. She also wondered if Ginny was wanting time alone after being with Andrea all day (at least that’s how Andrea would feel in Ginny’s place). “See you in the morning then, I enjoyed spending time with you today.”

“Same here,” said Ginny smiling and crawling into bed as Andrea slipped out and skipped quietly up the stairs to the third floor. George must have heard her coming, because his face appeared through the crack in his bedroom door.

“Aha! I knew it,” whispered George, shutting his door behind him and pulling Andrea into his arms. “Come for a goodnight kiss have we?”

“Come on, quick,” said Andrea, leading George by the hand and pulling him across to Percy’s abandoned room. “In here, before she goes up to bed!”

“Wow, very non-prefect-ly, Clearwater,” said George, seeming half-worried but mostly impressed. “I’m afraid that I don’t quite fancy risking a roll-in-the-gillyweed with Mum on high-alert – if you know what I mean. Not after a day like today, at least.” 

Andrea looked around the tidy, dark room, which was mostly empty except for a twin-sized bed, a bedside table, and a desk facing the moonlit window. 

“I just want to talk to you, that’s all,” said Andrea, sitting on the small bed next to George. “And maybe cuddle a bit, if you don’t _mind_.”

Andrea and George scooted close together and laid their heads on the single pillow so that she could easily look at him. 

“Ahh,” sighed George, closing his eyes, “I’m beat. I wonder what old Perce would think if he knew that _I_ was in his bed with his girlfriend’s little sister.”

“What happened today, George?” whispered Andrea so that Mrs. Weasley would not hear. 

“Oh well, where shall I begin,” said George, smiling thoughtfully, “Well, we cleaned that damn chicken coop by hand down to the last bloody dropping, organized Mum’s cabinets, pruned the front hedges, sharpened Dad’s hedge clippers – ”

“ _Jaanu_ ,” said Andrea, cutting him off midstream, “What did happened with the conversation between your parents?” 

“Ah, yes – that,” said George, grinding his knuckles into his eyes. “Could’ve gone worse I s’pose. They both were pretty furious with us for dropping out of school, but probably more so for not telling them where we were for the last three months. But we did tell ‘em and they were most concerned about where we got the money of course. We didn’t wanna throw Harry under the bus, but old Ron took care of that for us. Got to admire the bloke for blowing off his own best friend to save our asses. It put Dad at ease for the most part.”

“What about your mum?” asked Andrea, “Did she feel any better?”

“Maybe a bit,” said George with a yawn, “But she had already made up her mind that she’d have it out properly with us, so if she felt any better she didn’t let it show.” 

“Why did Potter give you that money anyway?” asked Andrea. She had wondered herself many a time where the twins had found the money to open a shop on Diagon Alley, but she never would have expected Harry Potter to have been the source of the financing. 

“I dunno, really,” said George, “He seemed well set on giving it away. It was the winnings from the Triwizard Tournament last year – something about Diggory being the ‘rightful winner’ or some rubbish like that. He seemed a bit mad to be honest, but Fred and I reckoned we’d better take the money and ask questions later.” 

“Wow,” said Andrea, wrapping her arms snuggly around George’s chest, “Anyway, what position did your parents take at the end of your talk?”

“Well, we kinda assured them that we already had a plan,” said George, “We walked them through our current finances, showed them a list of our products and our previous sales to date, and told them all about what the shop is like. Dad seemed pretty convinced, but Mum said she’d like to see it first before she decided if we’d ruined our lives. She tried to make us promise that if our business didn’t work out within the year then we’d go back and sit for the N.E.W.T.’s. We told her that it wouldn’t fail, and Fred refused to promise, so Mum started screeching again and sent us to work. The rest you know I s’pose.”

“Well,” said Andrea with a grin, tipping her head up and planting a kiss on George’s chin, “You didn’t _die_ like you said you would did you? That’s a pretty good sign. If today was the worst of it, I’d say we might even have an enjoyable holiday yet.” 

“Maybe, lovely,” said George, kissing her forehead softly, “I’m about to fall asleep though, and I don’t much fancy sleeping in Percy’s bed. Let’s go back to my room.”

“No, your mum will look in on you for sure,” said Andrea, “Let’s just sleep here… I’ll get up early and slip out. Alright? George?” 

George’s eyes were shut and his mouth slightly open, fast asleep. Andrea faintly heard Mrs. Weasley’s footsteps creaking on the landing just outside, as she made her way up to her bedroom with Mr. Weasley. Andrea thought she heard the footsteps pause for a moment, as if to listen in outside their door, but then again, she might have imagined it. 

Around four in the morning, Andrea slipped out of George’s arms, and crept back down the stairs to Ginny’s room for a few more ours of blissful sleep before Mrs. Weasley rapped on the door for an early breakfast.

After a groggy breakfast and a solid two hours of de-gnoming the garden, Andrea, Ginny, George, Fred and Ronald finally got a chance to relax, as Mrs. Weasley seemed to have finally satisfied her need to punish the twins. 

“Ah! Finally!” said Fred, throwing himself back onto a soft patch of grass by the broom shed, “I wouldn’t mind a game of Quidditch this afternoon, if I can manage it after Mum’s browbeating yesterday.” 

“Then maybe you should have actually gone to sleep last night instead of staying up looking at that photograph of Joscelind Wadcock all night,” snickered Ginny as she flicked a billywig off of her knee at him. 

“Hey, hey,” said Fred, looking scandalized, “Leave Joscie out of this! Anyway, I wasn’t the only one who stayed up late, right Clearwater?” 

“I won’t admit to anything,” said Andrea, taking a long swig of pumpkin juice from her cup, “Anyway, I wouldn’t mind playing a bit of Quidditch later on. George can help me learn, right _jaanu_? Roger already trained me up a bit while you were away, but I’m far from good.”

“Roger did, eh?” said George, glancing quickly at Fred then smiling at her, “Of course! We might stand a chance against Fred and Ginny even if we’ve got Ron on our team, Eh, Ron? I heard you won us the cup this year, right on!” 

Ron, who had thus far been rather quiet, was sitting with his back against a stump reading a book on the Chudley Cannons. It seemed, to Andrea, that Ronald had been avoiding Fred and George since his interaction with them yesterday up until now. However, at the mention of his triumph against Ravenclaw, he perked up, and put his book down on his lap. 

“Yeah, you should have seen it!” said Ron, “Davies was furious, but this is just the beginning! Now that I got a bit out of my own head, nothing’s holding me back!” 

“Well, we’ll see about that soon enough won’t we?” said Fred, “You can be on my team and show us all your mad skills! Don’t disappoint now, or we’re going to start to think your win was a fluke.”

“Ginny was there! She saw! Didn’t you?” shouted Ron, turning pink in the ears, “Angelina knew I could do it, I should never have let Malfoy get to me.”

“He was pretty great,” said Ginny. “I say we play now. All this talk of Quidditch is making me excited to train.”

“Well, just bear in mind that I’m no good,” said Andrea, standing up with Ginny as she rifled through the broom shed. “Maybe I should sit out…”

“Nonsense, love,” laughed George, coming up from behind and wrapping an arm around her, “It’s just for fun anyhow. Here, you take this broom – it’s got nice stability.” 

They spent the rest of that day and the next several days playing Quidditch in the orchard in the afternoons. Andrea was not particularly good, but she was much better at playing Keeper than Ron had been the times she had seen him play at Hogwarts – a fact that the twins did not fail to notice and point out. However, Ron had shown distinct improvement, and he was certainly better than Andrea was. 

In fact, his superiority to Andrea seemed to have boosted his confidence around her incredibly, and she was able to actually see a bit more of his personality than she had in the past as he had taken to telling and retelling the tales of his best saves to date in her presence.

“Ron, son,” said Mr. Weasley one morning over breakfast, “Can’t this wait until after we’ve all had a chance to wake up a bit?”

Ron glanced around at them all before shutting his open mouth, having been cut off midstream, and helping himself to more bacon. 

After breakfast, Andrea and George decided that they would go for a walk to have some time alone for a little while before lunch, so they headed out onto the stone path which lead to the front of the house. 

“Finally,” said George, lacing his fingers tightly between Andrea’s and swinging her arm in step. “We’ve had less time to snog here than we had at Hogwarts! That’s just sad! I’ve got a favorite spot a little ways from here where no one is about – Fred and I would go there to test some of our more explosive products so that Mum wouldn’t find out. The only problem is that there are cows there and sometimes you end up stepping in a big smelly – hold a minute! Whos’ that?”

A black figure, too distant to make out against the backlight of the rising sun, had just appeared atop a hill before them. The silhouette wore a robes, a cloak, and a pointy hat, so whoever it was certainly a witch or wizard. 

As the figure descended the hill, the witch before them was suddenly visible, and Andrea let out a gasp of surprise. It was Professor McGonagall. 

“Professor!” shouted Andrea, rushing forward to meet her. She looked surprisingly normal, considering how long she had spent at St. Mungo’s. McGonagall smiled kindly at Andrea then at George.

“Hey, Professor!” said George, “Long time no see.”

“Indeed,” said Professor McGonagall, giving George a stern yet somewhat amused look over her spectacles, “I was disappointed in you and your brother for not taking your exams, but I am glad to hear you are well.”

“Yeah, well,” said George, dismissively, “It couldn’t be helped. You here to see Mum? She’s in the kitchen having a chat with Dad, I think.”

“Indeed I am,” said McGonagall, as they all walked back towards the house together, “I did not know that you would be here Ms. Clearwater, but I am glad that you are. If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with you sometime before I take my leave.”

Andrea guess that this meant that she and George would not have time to be alone together like they had planned, but Andrea hardly minded as she had been anxious to speak with McGonagall about her transformation in person for some time. 

“Of course,” said Andrea as they approached the back door. Mrs. Weasley must have seen them coming from the window, because just at that moment she appeared in the doorway to greet them. 

“Oh, Minerva,” said Mrs. Weasley, taking McGonagall gingerly by the hand, “I’m so happy to see you in good health. Do come in, and stay for dinner, won’t you? Perhaps we can have dinner in the garden this evening!”

“Thank you, Molly. Yes I’ll stay,” said Professor McGonagall, then looking over her shoulder at Andrea, “Ms. Clearwater, my business with Mrs. Weasley should only take a few minutes. Will you please wait for me outside? I should like to speak with you in private shortly.”

McGonagall gave George, whose arm was wound snuggly around Andrea’s waist, a short warning glance, then entered the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley without further ado. 

“What do you reckon she wants to talk about?” said George, lifting Andrea off of her feet and sitting her on a very large, rusty, upturned cauldron which sat in the middle of the gnome-ridden cabbage patch. He sat at her feet with his back to her knees so she could play with his hair as she often fancied doing.

“She probably wants to talk about my plans for transformation, but she doesn’t know that it’s already happened,” said Andrea, smoothing George’s red hair back with her hands as they spoke. 

At this George, whose eyes had been closed as he relished the feel of Andrea’s strokes, popped open at once.

“Right!” he said, turning on his bottom to face her. “She doesn’t does she! In fact, I almost had forgotten all about that! Say, do you think I could _see_. You know? I want to see what you look like.”

“Of course,” said Andrea, who had been secretly hoping very much that George would ask so she could show him, “But it will have to wait. No one can know.”

“Of _course_ ,” said George, resuming his position for Andrea to pet his hair, “I’m quite good at keeping secrets as a matter of fact. I’ve had to keep _loads_ of stuff from you, actually – don’t worry! Nothing to do with me or you! Just _other_ people’s stuff. Just like Mum and Professor McGonagall are keeping us out now.”

Andrea was starting to feel that there was more going on with the Weasleys than met the eye. She had suspected as much before – with their numerous important connections and a position in the Ministry. 

“I _see_ ,” said Andrea. She hopped down off of the cauldron and sat on the soft earth next to George. He smiled at her so lovingly that she could not even be cross with him about rubbing his privileged information in her face, and instead, she laid her head on his shoulder as she watched the puffy clouds pass in the crisp blue sky above. 

Andrea looked over at the house, as they heard the kitchen door creaking open.

“Andrea, sweetie,” called Mrs. Weasley from the doorway, “Professor McGonagall is waiting for you in the living room. Come along!”

“See you soon, _jaanu,_ ” said Andrea getting up to make for the house. 

“Meet me in the orchard when you’re done! I’ve got something I want to show you,” said George with a devilish wink. 

“Sure,” said Andrea, winking back at him in return over her shoulder as she left. 

Mrs. Weasley was positively beaming with delight at Andrea as she approached her. Andrea met her in the doorway, where Mrs. Weasley mumbled something that sounded a lot like “very ideal, indeed,” as she ushered her through the kitchen and into the drawing room where McGonagall waited in an armchair by the fireplace. 

The room was cluttered, but cozy, pillows and throws set every which way on the sofas and numerous copies of _Witch Weekly_ splayed out on the coffee table before Professor McGonagall.

“Have a seat, Ms. Clearwater,” said McGonagall, as she flicked her wand at the drawing room doors so that they slammed shut behind Andrea. 

Andrea quickly obeyed and sat on the end of the couch that was closest to McGonagall. She was somberly surveying Andrea in such a way that made Andrea feel like McGonagall was preparing to tell her that she had failed all of her N.E.W.T.’s. 

“I am sorry, Ms. Clearwater, that we did not have the chance to further discuss your transformation while you were a student at Hogwarts,” said McGonagall, taking off her spectacles and setting them in her lap. “I would like to tell you, however, that if you still are intent on undergoing the transformation I am now, given the current circumstances regarding the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, prepared to assist you with any means necessary in your transformation – Ministry sanctioned or not.”

“Well…” said Andrea, tentatively, “About that…”

“You no longer wish to become an animagus?” said Professor McGonagall in bewilderment. “I do not wish to push you towards that decision in any way, it is a weighty decision indeed, but I truly believe that you are ready for it.”

“No, it’s not that…” said Andrea. Now that the moment to tell Professor McGonagall about her transformation inside Hogwarts’s walls, Andrea suddenly felt quite nervous. “I already did it, professor…” said Andrea in a quiet voice.

“Did what?” asked Professor McGonagall, “Gathered the ingredients for your potion?”

“No, Professor. I did it. I transformed. My animagus is a Raven, like my bird, Hugin,” said Andrea, watching as McGonagall’s face turned from confusion to astonishment.

“Well!” said Professor McGonagall, after a moment’s pause, “How _ever_ did you manage such a feat with that _woman_ patrolling the school? I _told_ you to come and find me if you were to attempt to transform at school! Transforming alone is very dangerous Ms. Clearwater, as you are _well_ aware!” 

“I know you did, Professor, but you were so busy and I thought it best that no one knew until it was over,” said Andrea, with a guilty glance at McGonagall, who was gazing at Andrea with wonder. “I went to the room of requirement, and I had Felix Felicis potion to help me. It really _was_ awful, but I don’t know that I would want you witnessing me act… well the way that I was acting while I was transforming.”

“You forget, Ms. Clearwater,” said Professor McGonagall, after a short silence, “ _I_ too underwent the same process as you did, and I think you’d be surprised by the many things I have seen in my lifetime. I am grateful that you were able to transform successfully, unharmed. I really do not understand why you did not simply wait until the end of the term to proceed.”

“Well, Professor,” said Andrea, feeling more sure of herself now that the worst was out of the way, “I wanted to do more. I felt like waiting would add risk to my family, since I needed to move them out to go into hiding after the end of term and someone needed to run our family business. There wouldn’t be time for me to transform… or at least that’s what it felt like at the time.

“After what happened to my godfather, I felt like no one was doing anything to stop You-Know-Who. I’m not saying that I can stop him – of course not – I just mean that I felt that there could be advantages to becoming an unregistered animagus with the corruption of the Ministry and the return of You-Know-Who. I just feel like the Ministry is so _inept_. I just wish someone was doing something to resist.” 

Professor McGonagall regarded Andrea thoughtfully for some time before speaking. 

“There are…” said McGonagall slowly and carefully, “Those of us who are doing our best to resist, Ms. Clearwater. Did you say your animagus form is a raven? Yes.

“I have put a great deal of thought into the possibilities of your secret, given that you have expressed the need to ‘do more,’ as you put it, and I have a proposal for you,” said McGonagall, slipping on her spectacles once more and sitting up quite straight. “I believe that you might help, me personally rather than the organization of which I am a part of, in some select ways from time to time if you so choose. Being an animal of flight, especially one so inconspicuous as a raven, certainly has its advantages. There would still be risk involved, and I would never ask you to do more than you feel comfortable.”

So there _was_ an official, secret organization. That must be why McGonagall had private business with Mrs. Weasley. Whether it was through McGonagall or the organization, Andrea was eager to help – though she decided _not_ to mention yet that she still had not taken the time to learn to fly properly. 

“Are you saying I could _spy_ for you, Professor?” said Andrea in a low voice.

“Well, yes,” said McGonagall curtly, “But as you are no longer one of my students, so I must insist that you no longer call me ‘Professor,’ especially considering that you would be reporting to me as a colleague rather than a superior.” 

“What shall I call you P – ” said Andrea stopping herself before she could say “professor.” She never imagined herself being on a first name basis with Professor McGonagall. 

“Minerva, will do,” said McGonagall shortly, standing up and flicking the doors open once more with her wand. “I would like to speak with you further about this, Andrea – at a later time. I am pleased that you have agreed to help. We will need as much of it as we can get.” 

“Thank you, P – _thank_ you,” said Andrea, feeling slightly awkward and shaken by the abrupt ending to their profound conversation. 

Andrea was relieved when Mrs. Weasley called her into the kitchen to help her toss some vegetable scraps to the chickens. After tossing the clippings, Andrea met George in the orchard and filled him in on what happened with McGonagall. 

“Wicked!” said George, once Andrea had finished. “That’s great, love! McGonagall wouldn’t ever give you something _too_ dangerous – you know her – but at least you can do _something_!” 

“Yes,” said Andrea, jumping up and down trying to reach an apple just out of her reach, “I’m looking forward to learning more about what she has in mind.”

George wrapped his arms around Andrea’s legs and lifted her so that she could snap the apple off of the branch. 

“I could have just used my wand,” laughed Andrea as George set her down on the grass once more. 

“But that’s not nearly as fun, is it?” grinned George, pulling her close before pressing her suddenly against a tree with his body pressed against hers. 

“I suppose not,” said Andrea, looking up into George’s warm brown eyes. It was so wonderful to be here with him in the country. She was almost able to forget the troubles of the world as George kissed her feverishly in the quiet orchard. 

Sometime later, when the sun descended to the horizon and turned the sky golden, Andrea and George made their way back to the house where they could smell dinner cooking. 

It could not been a finer evening. Mrs. Weasley had magicked the kitchen table and chairs outside and laden it with pitchers of pumpkin juice, mead, bread and butter, and countless candles that illuminated the seating area in a golden orb of light. 

“George! Andrea, dear!” called Mrs. Weasley, as she bustled out the back door with several trays of meat pies, cheese and garden tomatoes, and treacle tart. “I’ve _just_ received an owl from your brother, Bill! You won’t believe the news – he’s _engaged_ with a young lady that he met working at Gringotts! Isn’t it wonderful! They arrive tomorrow so that we can meet her. Oh! I’m sure she’s just wonderful.”

“We’ll see what Mum thinks of her once she meets her in _person_ ,” mumbled Ginny so that Mrs. Weasley could not hear. 

“Why? Have _you_ met her?” asked Andrea, sitting next to George at the end of the table.

“It’s Fleur, from Beauxbatons last year during the Triwizard Tournament. Remember? The blonde one that Ron fancied,” said George, helping himself to a jug of mead.

Ron, who had just arrived in the doorway to the garden in front of McGonagall, Fred, and Mr. Weasley, scowled, turned bright pink, and sat at the other end of the table from George. 

“Yeah, I remember her now, she sat with us at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall” said Andrea, “I didn’t really talk to her though… She seemed a bit pretentious, to be honest.”

“My point exactly,” said Ginny, eyeing her mother, who was excitedly telling Professor McGonagall the news as she led her to her seat at the table. 

By the time everyone had seated, there were at least six different conversations well underway. Andrea was sat between George and Mr. Weasley, who had endless questions about the origin of the television and if it could transport food like a microwave, and she was across from Ginny who was currently arguing loudly with Fred about something. 

When Mr. Weasley had finally turned his attention to Ginny, Andrea rested her head on George’s shoulder, having finished her meal, as they waited for Mrs. Weasley to come back with pudding. 

“You did good, love” George mumbled in her ear. “Not everyone can follow Dad for that long. You having fun yet?” 

Everything felt gloriously normal, yet Andrea’s conversation with Professor McGonagall lurked in the back of her mind as an irksome reminder of a force that threatened all of this – and all of those that she loved. 

“Yes, I am,” sighed Andrea, looping her arm through George’s. “I just wish there was peace so we could have moments like this forever. I wish Dad could be here to talk with yours. I wish we were all together and that life was normal again. I can’t escape the feeling that all of this will be taken from us.”

“I know, love,” said George quietly against the top of her head, “But you know what? We’ve got each other still. My family has your back, and your parents are with friends and family – safe and sound. Just enjoy tonight and forget everything else for now.

Hugin, having returned from a day of scavenging and mercilessly terrorizing garden gnomes, swooped down from a nearby tree and landed on George’s shoulder.

“Look!” said George, reaching up and scratching Hugin’s chin, “Even _he’s_ starting to like me!”

Forgetting the troubles of the outside world was not hard at the Burrow. Laughing, Andrea kissed George on his cheek and smiled around at the bright faces before her. Suddenly, Andrea felt very much at home. Her family might be far away, but they were safe and Andrea had found herself a family that she could belong to as long as they were away. 

Things would certainly be unpredictable from now on, but Andrea was prepared to do whatever it took to keep herself and her people safe. For now she would enjoy the peace of the Burrow, its many pleasures, and of course the presence of her favorite Weasley. 


	21. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for following this story! Please stay tuned for a Frida/Roger story in the near future! I'll be re-uploading all chapters after I fine edit them, so if you revisit the chapters, they may be slightly different. Please feel free to leave comments! It has been a pleasure writing this story.

It was as fine of a June morning as the city of London had ever seen. The windows of Timeless Tea’s, in Diagon Alley, were thrown open, letting gentle, warm breeze sweep through the shop which caused the many candles adorning the tables to flicker but not extinguish. 

“Ma! Mrs. Dankworth wants the hawthorn blend,” Andrea called over her shoulder, waving her wand to send half a dozen tea pots whirring through the air to serve their corresponding guests. 

The tea house was packed to capacity. Several young witches hung by the open door in the street, peering in to determine whether their desire for tea outweigh the length of the wait. 

It had been two years since You-Know-Who’s downfall, but it had taken a solid year for business to pick back up, so Andrea still wasn’t quite used to having a full house again. It was getting late, but Andrea had been so busy that she had not had the chance to eat lunch.

“Hey, Dad,” said Andrea, approaching the cashier’s desk where her dad was counting out the money drawer, “I’m going to take lunch now, if that’s alright.”

“We can manage darling,” said Robert, smiling warmly at her. “Are you eating with George again?”

“Yeah, I think he’s waiting for me to eat – he sent me an owl about an hour ago saying that he wanted to talk to me in person about something… Odd, isn’t it?”

“A bit, yeah. Let me know if you two end up needing us for anything,” said Robert, returning to his counting. 

Andrea quickly hung her apron in the back and strode out onto the bright, cobblestone walkway, passing Fortescue’s still-deserted ice cream parlor. 

Three years ago, Andrea had been forced to shut down her shop entirely and go into hiding with her parents, as the Ministry had been overthrown by You-Know-Who’s supporters and no one in Diagon Alley was safe at that point. 

Andrea had been able to keep herself quite busy relaying messages for McGonagall from Hogwarts to various witches and wizards in the resistance. Her role might have been small, but Andrea had felt useful as she helped bridge the growing communication gap that had steadily grown since You-Know-Who rose to power. She even had the chance to visit George from time to time during those dark days.

The street now churned with witches and wizards once more, and Andrea was beginning to feel that things were finally going back to normal. Diagon Alley might have been back in business, but some things had certainly changed since the second war. 

To Andrea, the painful change was Fred’s absence at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He had fallen and was presumed dead at the Battle of Hogwarts almost exactly two years ago. Upon several healers’ close examination of Fred’s body, however, it was determined that the blow that had taken Fred down had not been quite enough to kill him. 

For the past two years, Fred had been in St. Mungo’s long-term ward in a coma. It was unsure whether or not Fred would regain consciousness, but in the past six months, the healers said that he was showing very hopeful signs of improvement. 

George was managing their business on his own, and while he maintained the joke shop’s uplifting appearance, it had not been easy. Despite his occasional moments of hopelessness, George had remained characteristically optimistic. 

As Andrea reached for the brightly-colored door of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, she was nearly bowled over by about five young boys (about eleven years old by the look of them) carrying armfuls of what looked suspiciously like Skiving Snackboxes. 

Andrea entered the shop into the cacophony of firecrackers, squeaking of pigmy puffs, and a variety of other clattering and honking noises. Andrea ducked as a Fanged Frisbee came flying at her head before whirring across to gnaw on the brim of a grumpy looking witch’s hat. 

George was at the counter, ringing up several more packs of Skiving Snackboxes to some Hogwarts-aged teenagers. 

“I see you’re still giving the professors at Hogwarts a hard time – these things really haven’t lost any of their popularity have they,” said Andrea, hopping up on the counter to sit next to where George was working. 

“Hey, lovely,” said George, planting a small kiss on her hand before returning to bagging the Snackboxes. “And sure I am! Say, kids – when you see Filch let him know that the Weasleys send their warmest regards.”

“You know, I sent in my application for Transfiguration Professor last month…” said Andrea slyly, “Your products better not cause trouble in _my_ classes or I’ll set your mum on you.”

“ _Such_ a prefect!” laughed George, motioning for Verity (a shop employee) to join them, “Nah, I don’t buy it. Even you wouldn’t tattle on me to Mum – that would be too cruel.

“Verity, watch the shop, would you,” said George, hopping over the counter and taking Andrea by the hand. “We’re going to have lunch… and we likely won’t be coming back for the rest of the day.”

“What?” asked Andrea, as George led Andrea up to his loft. “Why would we not go back to work?”

“You’ll find out in a minute, don’t get your wand in a knot,” said George with a smirk. George’s flat was quite plain – there was a small kitchen in the far side of the room with a small square table for eating, a large wardrobe, and two twin beds (one made nicely and one a tangled mass of blankets). 

“Have you been practicing your cooking, then?” asked Andrea, watching as George vanished away the mess he had left in the pots and pans from the night before.

“Sure have,” said George happily, whipping out his wand and setting his kitchen to life. “I’m not quite at your level yet, I’m afraid.” 

He set down a sandwich in front of Andrea and sat down closely beside her. There was something off about him – a certain seriousness oozed from behind his jovial façade. 

“ _Jaanu_ , what is it, my love?” said Andrea, forgetting her sandwich and taking one of his large hands in both of hers. “I’m so impatient to know what’s going on.”

George took a deep steadying breath, then looked Andrea straight in the eye.

“Fred’s awake.”

“ _What_ ,” said Andrea, after a moment of stunned silence, “When? _How_?”

“Mum sent me an owl a couple of hours ago,” said George anxiously running a hand through his hair, “She said to come straight over, but I didn’t want to go without you.”

“This is _wonderful_!” exclaimed Andrea, “But what are you acting all somber for? Did they say something was… not right with him?”

“She didn’t say anything,” said George quietly, “That’s the thing. No details. They just want us over there as soon as we can.”

“What are we waiting for, then?” said Andrea, taking a large mouthful of sandwich. “Let’s go _now_.”

“Let’s just get a bite in first,” said George, squeezing Andrea’s hand. “I’m right nervous. What if he’s… what if he’s not _Fred_ anymore?” 

“He will be, _jaanu,_ ” said Andrea firmly, “He will be.” 

Andrea did not truly know what would become of Fred, but she had been keeping up with the healers weekly and she had understood a lot more about his condition than George did. 

Fred had received a mighty blow to the head and had extensive internal bleeding. He was kept in a magically induced coma even after they had repaired much of the damage in order to allow him to heal properly. The healers had said that it would be a while before they felt comfortable lifting the enchantments keeping Fred unconscious, so Andrea felt reasonably confident that all was well.

They would not have lifted the spell unless they were absolutely sure that he was ready. She had tried to explain this to George many times, but it had done little to console him about the matter. Andrea didn’t blame him. 

Shortly after they had eaten, Andrea and George were trekking up the stairwell in St. Mungo’s to the fourth floor where Fred’s ward was located. George’s hand was sweating in Andrea’s as they walked down the corridor. 

To Andrea’s surprise, Percy Weasley (who had broken up with Penelope some time ago) stood with Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Ginny, Ron, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter outside Fred’s door. They were all speaking in hushed but excited tones, but all silenced as they noticed George and Andrea approaching. 

“Mum and Dad are inside,” said Ginny with a twinkle in her eye. “Go on in – they aren’t allowing all of us to be inside at once, but you two can go ahead.” 

George stood before the closed door, staring blankly at it and wringing his hands. He was more anxious than Andrea had ever seen him. 

“Love, it’s alright,” whispered Andrea, slipping her arm around his waist. “Just look at everyone – they seem happy. Everything is okay.”

George did not appear to be listening or paying attention to the crowd behind them. After half a minute, he finally placed a slightly trembling hand on the doorknob and turned it. 

“So _you’re_ telling _me_ that Ron’s been using and abusing my broom for _two_ whole _years_?! Huh! You’d think I was dead with the way you all’ve been acting!”

Fred was sitting upright in his bed, without so much as a bandage on him, speaking animatedly with his parents who sat in the two visitor’s chairs next to his bed. 

“FRED!” shouted George, releasing Andrea and running over to his bed to kneel beside it to stare up at his brother. 

“Hey, holey-boy,” beamed Fred, “I was wondering when you’d drag your ass over here!”

Fred clearly had no notion of how much George had suffered for the past two years at his expense. Fred looked around, dumbfounded, as George dropped his face into Fred’s bedding and wept. 

“I think we’ll leave you boys to catch up,” said Mr. Weasley stiffly, taking Mrs. Weasley by the hand and hurrying out of the room. 

Andrea took a seat in one of the visitor’s chairs and watched as Fred stared in bewilderment at George, as he wept freely into his hands. 

“Did he run the business into the ground, then?” asked Fred jokingly with a quaky laugh. 

“Fred,” said Andrea sternly with her arms folded across her chest, “We thought you were dead. We weren’t certain that you’d ever wake up. You do realize that it’s been two years, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” said Fred, “I know that. Sorry… It’s just that last thing I remember I was fighting at Hogwarts, then the next thing I knew some scraggly old bloke was prodding my head with his wand and I found myself here! That was only a few hours ago, wasn’t it? So I haven’t had much time to get used to this.”

“See, _jaanu,_ ” said Andrea with a small smile, “He _is_ the same old Fred after all.”

Composing himself, George lifted his head and gave his brother a long look before bursting out into a fit of cathartic laughter. “He is isn’t he? He’s the same clueless fool that he’s always been,” said George, suddenly getting to his feet and pulling Fred into a strong hug.

Fred first looked like he might argue with being called a fool, but his eyes opened wide with surprise at his brother’s affection. Fred glanced over at Andrea and gave her a uncertain smile.

“Well, you’ve always been the more mature one haven’t you,” said Fred once George had released his grip on him, “But now you really are! I’ve got the mentality of a twenty year-old, and now you’ve got two years on me! Does that make you the oldest twin?”

“I haven’t got a clue,” sighed George, plopping down in the seat next to Andrea, wiping his face with his sleeve. 

Andrea and George spent the next two hours with Fred before they were asked to trade off with Ginny and Ron, so they decided to head back home until the next day. The healers wanted to keep Fred for at least another week to monitor his stability, so they would likely be frequenting St. Mungo’s much more often for a while. 

By Halloween, it seemed that life had finally shifted back to a gloriously peaceful reality. Fred and George were back to running their shop together, as if nothing had changed since they first opened their doors, and Frida and her family, Eliza, Roger, Jamie, Fred, Angelina, and Penelope were all to come over that evening for Andrea’s birthday/Halloween dinner. 

Diagon Alley was decorated with floating jack-o-lanterns and live bats, but this year the decorations seemed to have doubled since last. People were starting to feel more comfortable and safe in the world, yet the celebratory mood that struck after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had not died out – if anything, it had matured with time. 

Andrea sat on her balcony watching the first of the small children trick-or-treating for the evening on the street below. It was only five in the afternoon, so she had had a few a few hours to kill before her guests arrived. 

There was a small knock on her door audible from the balcony, so Andrea put down her tea and skipped over to the door.

“Coming, Mum,” called Andrea, but where Andrea had expected her mother, coming up to remind Andrea about something to do with the party, but instead she found George waiting on the landing holding a large, colorful gift basket. 

“Happy birthday, darling! Twenty-three years old! How does it feel?” beamed George, as he forced the heaping basket into her arms, kissed her vehemently, and walked with her into her flat. “Exciting isn’t it? We haven’t had a decent party since Bill’s wedding!”

“I didn’t get to go to that, remember?” said Andrea putting down her basket onto her coffee table to free her arms. “I had business with McGonagall that night, so it’s been even longer than that for me.” 

“Right…” said George thoughtfully, taking a seat in front of the crackling fireplace, “So that means the last time we were at a party together was your birthday at the our little Halloween party. The night you jumped my bones the first time, remember?” 

“ _Yes_ , I remember,” said Andrea, glaring playfully at George as she took her seat. “Anyway, shall I go through your gift basket?”

“Well, it’s just a good mix of our products that I thought you’d enjoy,” said George, “You know, some Thirty Minute Daydreams, extendable ears, instant darkness powder – things like that. You can look through now if you want – but I was sort of hoping that we could do something else.”

“Like what?” asked Andrea suspiciously.

“I dunno,” said George, standing up and pacing before the fireplace in front of her, “I thought it might be fun to relive some old memories. Today is sort of our four-year anniversary if you think about it.” 

“What are you talking about, George?” asked Andrea impatiently, as George stopped pacing and stood still, looking down at her with his hands in his pockets. 

“I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to have a sharp wit,” murmured George, leaning down to rest his hands upon either arm of her chair and staring down into her eyes in such a way that made Andrea feel her heart beat in her throat. 

He slowly leaned down so that his forehead was inches from hers – eyes darting across her face searchingly. Slowly, he rested his knee on the edge of her seat so that she was surrounded at all sides. His breath was deep and ragged, and there was something strangely serious about him. His gaze was wild – hungry, almost – leaving Andrea frozen to the spot.

“ _Jaanu – ”_ Andrea’s voice was cut off as George suddenly lurched forward, kissing Andrea so feverishly that she almost forgot to breathe. 

His energy was contagious – her blood, while it was once chilly from the October air, was suddenly boiling, scalding her skin through her cheeks and neck. She laced her arms around his shoulders, and he picked her up swiftly and moved her to the rug before the fire. 

Releasing her, he stretched out on the floor and rested his arms behind his head, gazing up at Andrea with a mischievous tinkle in his eye. 

Still roused by his kiss, Andrea leapt on top of George, kissing him with such force that she felt him shudder beneath her. Andrea couldn’t stand it – she pulled up his robes and slid onto him, rocking steadily, driving him into her as forcefully as she could.

Andrea let out a small cry, but George’s hand shot up to her lips.

“ _Shh_ ! Love,” George chuckled, “Your parents are here. Let’s not make it a tradition of getting _caught_ on your birthday.” 

Andrea grumbled, pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at the door behind them, locking it. 

“ _You_ , shh!” retorted Andrea, still rocking steadily against George. “Now tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” said George, pulling Andrea down by the nape of her neck so he could kiss her. “I’m yours.” 

After a while, Andrea and George resolved to take a bath together in her tub where he got a chance to demonstrate his waterproof firework sprinklers, and after which they got ready to go upstairs to the roof for the party.

They still had a half an hour before the guests would arrive, so Andrea decided to show him around her dad’s garden. 

“And here are the spicey variety,” said Andrea, pointing to several orange-leafed tea trees as she led George passed the magenta Love Buzz tea trees. “Dad grows them and Mum alters them, but this whole section is still in the evaluation phase. We are hoping to start offering them some time in the next few months!”

“Spicey tea!?” said George, rubbing a leaf between his fingers before smelling them. “Who would have thought! Your parents ought to team up with me and Fred sometime. They’ve got some great ideas! Quite a pair they are.” 

Andrea heard the quiet fluttering of wings and turned to spot a barred owl that Andrea did not recognize sitting on the out door dining table with a letter fastened to its ankle. 

“Ooo, looks like someone’s got some birthday mail already,” said George with a grin, untying the letter for Andrea and handing it to her. 

Andrea turned the letter over to find that it was sealed with red wax… and the Hogwarts crest. 

“It’s from Hogwarts!” said Andrea, hurriedly tearing open the letter.

“Wow, I thought you were turning twenty-three – not eleven!” said George, elbowing Andrea lightly in the ribs and chuckling at his own joke. 

“Listen to this!” said Andrea, beaming with excitement as she scanned the page. “It says here, _Dear Ms. Andrea Clearwater, Your application for the position of Transfiguration professor has been granted, but in light of your particular family situations, I will remain headmistress and Transfiguration professor for this school year as you may have already noticed that the term has already commenced. Next school year you may begin your post at Hogwarts. You may opt to board at Hogwarts school or to commute to Hogsmeade each morning. Please respond promptly with your acceptance of this post and inform me of your decision on boarding. Congratulations, and welcome back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

“This is so wonderful! What a perfect surprise!” said Andrea throwing her arms around George and soaking in the excitement that buzzed through her every nerve. 

“Congratulations, lovely!” said George, kissing her gently before pulling her into a chair onto his lap. “I’m glad that I get another year with you here though. You aren’t going to live there though, are you? I mean, who knows what creep they’ve got up there replacing Professor Snape…” 

“No,” said Andrea shortly. She still felt a little sore about all that had happened regarding Professor Snape after she had left Hogwarts, and she preferred not to dwell on him. “I’ll just apparate to Hogsmeade every day like any other job.”

“Hey Mrs. Clearwater,” said George, unlacing Andrea’s arms from around his neck and standing up. Radhika had appeared on the rooftop levitating trays upon trays of naan, paneer curry, rice, dal, jilebi, kaaradava, laddu, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, and treacle tart. “You need help with any of that Mrs. Clearwater?”

“No, dear,” said Radhika with such fondness that Andrea was reminded distinctly and uncannily of how Mrs. Weasley acted with her, “ _you_ don’t need to worry about a thing!” 

With a flick of her wand, the table was set and decorated with jack-o-lanterns, trays of floating food and candles, and little orbs of golden light floated around the rooftop like faeries.

“Ma, you’ve outdone yourself,” said Andrea, astonished at the great effort her mother had gone to just for her birthday. “I’m not turning of-age or anything! You didn’t need to go to so much trouble!”

“Of _course_ I did, _sweetu_ ,” said Radhika planting a tender kiss on her cheek, then on George’s in turn. “Today is a _special_ day! _Your_ day! I daresay we all could do with a little celebration.”

“Speaking of which Mum,” said Andrea, taking her by the hand, “I’ve been accepted for the position of Transfiguration professor for the next school year at Hogwarts!”

“Ooo! Baby, that is so exciting! What a wonderful day it is, indeed!” said Radhika, gesturing to the sky as if to thank it. “I’m going to go down and tell you father – he’s getting the rest of the food.”

“The _rest_ ?!” asked Andrea, looking around at the extravagant banquet before them. There was enough food for three Weasley family reunions put together – and that includes _all_ of the Weasleys, including distant relations. “Ma, there’s already too much food!”

“Quiet! Don’t be silly – no there’s not,” said Radhika, bustling back down the stairwell and slamming the door behind her as she often liked to do.

“What is she talking about?!” asked Andrea, looking to George for support, but he was just smiling distantly to himself. “There aren’t supposed to be that many people here!”

“Who knows,” said George with a sly smile, “Maybe more will turn up.”

“Do you know something I don’t, then?” asked Andrea, pinching his side. “What’s going on?”

“As Fred likes to say, ‘Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies’,” said George, taking her by the hand and leading her over to the edge of the rooftop to peek at the street below. “It’s about time for people to start arriving isn’t it? Shall I chuck a Dungbomb on Roger when he shows up?”

“No, but look, Fred is coming – you can do _him_ if want,” said Andrea giggling, “A little payback might be good for him.”

“Nah, look, Angelina is with him, and I won’t lie – she’s scarier than he is,” said George. “Come on, I’ll pour you a butterbeer while we wait for the rest of the lot to show.”

After Angelina and Fred, Eliza and Jamie showed up bearing gifts. Shortly after Penelope arrived alone and gave Andrea a quick hug before running off to help her mother with the final preparations. Andrea was quite surprised when the all of the immediate Weasley family (including Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Ron, and Ginny) showed up. 

Mr. Weasley was most interested in their tea gardening experiments, so he quickly monopolized her father’s time to get a tour of the garden. Andrea was just about to ask Mr. Weasley if he wanted to check out her father’s electric watering system when she received yet another shock.

Out from the roof stairwell stepped Roger, hand in hand with none other than Frida. 

“Excuse me for a moment,” said Andrea stepping away from Mr. Weasley and her father and hurried past Fred, George, and Angelina’s chat group to greet Roger and Frida. They had already taken seats across from Jamie and Eliza and were chatting animatedly.

“What the _hell_ , guys?!” said Andrea, as soon as she approached them. “Are you two…?” 

“Well ‘hello’ to you too, Andrea,” said Roger with a small smirk and taking her hand to shake. “And happy birthday, by the way.”

“ _We_ were _just_ about to interrogate them when you arrived, Andrea, so perfect timing!” said Jamie, focusing her attention back on Roger, “So where were we?”

“ _Frida_?!” said Andrea staring unspoken accusations at Frida. She could not believe that Frida would keep this from her. 

“Look, _sorry_!” said Frida imploringly, “We just… Well you remember a couple years ago when I made that delivery of Winged Abraxon to the Davies’ manor? Remember I got stuck there? Well… We kinda started seeing each other sometime after that, but I didn’t want to tell anyone about it until I was sure that it would work.”

Andrea glared at Frida, hoping to silently let her know that she have to give her more details later. 

“ _Wow_ ,” said Eliza, sharing a not-so-subtle grin with Jamie, “Well I guess we were right about your feelings towards Frida, Roger! Even if you didn’t realize it at the time. This is a story I’m going to want to hear.”

“Me too…” said Andrea, glancing up at the door to the stairwell which had swung open once more, “But I’m going to have to hear about that later… My grandparents just showed up! I didn’t know they were coming!”

Frida, having spent a great deal of time with her grandparents, turned around in her chair to look. “It looks like way more than just your grandparents, Andrea… Who are _they_?” 

About twenty more witches and wizards wearing Indian-style wizard’s robes followed her grandparents onto the rooftop to be greeted graciously by Radhika.

“My aunts, uncles, and cousins on my grandma’s side…” said Andrea, hardly believing her eyes. It was very seldom that her extended family visit from India. “ _What_ are they doing here? They’ve never come for anyone’s birthday before. The last time I saw them was at my cousin’s wedding eight years ago!” 

Before she could discuss it further, Radhika frantically gestured for Andrea to come greet her grandparents. Andrea stood up, hurried over to nab George from his banter with Fred and Angelina, and crossed the rooftop patio towards her grandparents.

She smiled and nodded at her extended family as they passed her to take their seats at the magically growing table.

“ _Daadee,”_ said Andrea touching the ground at her grandmother’s feet before being pulled into her soft embrace. Her grandmother was short, full-figured, and greying, but her bright eyes still had a spark of youth that somehow enhanced the impact of her wisdom. 

“ _Dědeček,_ ” said Andrea, hugging her grey, surly grandfather. He smelled like pine and tobacco. Andrea pulled back just in time to see her mother and grandmother exchanging an odd look.

“Thank you for coming,” said Andrea, stepping back to take George’s arm. “I must admit I am surprised to see everyone.”

“Happy Birthday, _Potee_ ,” said Grandma Fari, who was more intent on eyeing George up and down with interest than paying attention to Andrea. “So is this _him, Betee?_ ” she asked turning to Radhika. 

“Ma, Daddy, this is George, Andrea’s boyfriend,” said Radhika with a twinkle in her eye that Andrea was sure that she’d never seen before. 

George shook hands with each of her grandparents, and they began exchanging the usual pleasantries that one does when they first meet. Andrea meant to take advantage of this moment to question her mother as to why she had invited everyone they knew, but Radhika seeming to be hanging onto every word of her grandparents’ discussion with George.

“Yes, ma’am,” said George, who was now being questioned about his occupation by her grandmother, “I run a retail business just down the street. What kind of business? Well, it’s actually a joke shop, but we have a variety of other products as well that are great for self-defense. The Ministry of Magic actually made a couple of pretty big purchases over the years…”

Andrea watched as George rubbed his hands together slowly as he often did when he was nervous. She had never seen George anxious about talking to anyone before, but then again, her grandmother could be intimidating on an ethereal level. 

After a few minutes, Robert finally came over to usher them to their seats. Andrea sat in the middle of the magically enlarged table (seating far more people than it ought to for its size) between George and Frida. The rooftop was a din of chatter as the throng of guests got to know each other over dinner. 

George had been right – it had been a long time since it had been safe to have a celebration like this, and Andrea was happy to provide such an excuse for everyone to get together, especially given Fred’s miraculous recovery. 

Andrea had a great time socializing with her Hogwarts friends and her extended family as they ate – so much so that Andrea nearly choked on her butterbeer when her mother stood up and shouted over the clatter. 

“Time for desert!” Radhika exclaimed, waving her wand so that the trays with the main courses drifted upwards and the trays with deserts floated downwards a few inches off of the table so that everyone could reach. Andrea could not remember her mother having a better time.

“Here, love,” said George, leaning across the table and selecting a Cauldron Cake and handing it to Andrea. “I know they’re your favorite aren’t they? Oops! Clumsy me! Say, lovely, you mind picking up my spoon, I think it slid under your chair.” 

“Sure,” said Andrea, setting down her Cauldron Cake to rummage under the table for George’s spoon. 

“Thanks, love,” said George, once Andrea had re-emerged. “Oh, by the way, don’t eat the cake too fast. I think your mom said she put hazelnuts in them.”

“ _Nuts_ ?” asked Andrea incredulously, “In Cauldron Cakes? I don’t know _what’s_ gotten into her this week. She’s been acting quiet strangely.”

“Who knows,” said George flippantly, “Maybe you’ll like them!” 

Andrea rolled her eyes and tucked into her Cauldron Cake, taking a bite before turning to Frida.

“So, _when_ are you going to tell me about how you and Roger happened?” asked Andrea, poking Frida in the ribs. 

“Erm, I dunno, Andrea,” said Frida, blushing slightly and staring concentratedly at her Pumpkin Pasty. Why was everyone behaving so strangely tonight?

Irritated, Andrea turned away from Frida and took another bite of her cake, but her teeth bit down on something quite hard. If she had bitten any harder it would have been quite painful. Why her mother had decided to put nuts in Cauldron Cakes, Andrea doubted she would ever understand. 

Andrea bit down gingerly to break the hard nut, but her teeth clacked against it. Whatever it was, it _wasn’t_ a nut. Careful not to let anyone else see, Andrea lifted her napkin to her mouth and spit out a cakey, chocolatey, chewed mass into her napkin and set it on her lap.

Andrea covertly poked through the doughy blob until she found the source of the hardness. It was something metal. Her mother must have been truly out of sorts if she was letting foreign objects fall into her batter. 

Andrea gently pulled at the shiny, sliver metal piece poking out of a chocolate clump and extracted it to examine it closer. It was round, but so full of batter that Andrea could not discreetly examine it, so she pulled out her wand under the table and uttered, “ _tergeo.”_

It was a sparkling silver ring with a shimmering bright sapphire set into it. Andrea held it in her palm for a second in confusion. She had never seen her mom wear a ring like this. Suddenly, Andrea was aware that George was sitting quite still next to her, watching her. 

“George…?” said Andrea quietly, her hand now shaking slightly, as she looked up into his mahogany eyes that sparkled in the candlelight. “Did you…?”

Andrea could hardly make sense of the conclusions her mind was leading her to. Before Andrea knew what was happening, George slid his chair aside and took a knee before her, his hands holding her trembling ones. They stared at each other in silence a long moment, and Andrea vaguely realized that the chatter around them had hushed almost completely. 

“Andrea, love…” said George, softly, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze, “I love you so much. I always have, but these past few years, you’ve been there for me in ways that I didn’t think anyone ever could. You’re smart, funny, kind, and mad fun to be around. I reckon you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.

Andrea’s heart seemed to stop as George took the ring from Andrea’s clammy palm and gently slid it onto her ring finger. 

“Love, if you agree to be my wife, I promise that I will love and care for you forever and I’ll never let you regret it. Will you marry me? _Please_?”

With his ‘ _please,’_ George grinned and gave Andrea a cheeky wink. Andrea stared at George’s beaming, expectant face. She could hardly believe what was happening. They had been caught up in so much the past couple of years that Andrea hadn’t given marriage any particular thought. 

Perhaps she could have expected it, given how long they had known each other, but somehow he had caught her completely off guard. After a moment, however, Andrea took a gulp. She, of course, knew her answer.

“Yes, _Jaanu_ ,” said Andrea, unable to stop a single tear from escaping, “I’ll marry you.”

“ _MERLIN’S BEARD_ ,” cried Mrs. Weasley from down the table, “My boy – my _Georgie_!” 

George beamed at Andrea, lifting her to her feet and pulling her into a strong kiss. The table erupted with ovations and hollering as Andrea swayed with George on the spot. 

“Nice one, Georgie!!” Fred could be heard shouting over the cheering. 

“Come on,” said George softly into Andrea’s ear, leading her away from the applauding table, “Let’s chat a bit, eh?” 

“Yeah, okay,” said Andrea shakily, looking down at the George’s offering which glittered on her finger like a dew-covered gentian blossom. 

George lead Andrea over to the far corner of the patio under a Shrivelfig tree where Hugin watched them, perched on a high branch. 

“So, did you like the surprise?” said George, his eyes darting across Andrea’s face apprehensively. 

“Yes,” said Andrea, lacing her fingers snugly between George’s and pulling him close. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting it at all. I don’t know why I didn’t… But I am so happy. I hardly can believe it.”

“You’ll be another Mrs. Weasley,” snickered George, stealing a quick kiss, “I expect there will be a bunch of Mrs. Weasleys over the next few years.” 

“I suppose so… You’ve got a lot of brothers, haven’t you?” said Andrea, blissfully gazing out at the moon which shone over Diagon Alley’s many rooftops. 

“So you’re really happy, then?” said George, lifting her new ring to his lips and watching her keenly. “I know I almost choked you on that ring, but I hope I didn’t mess up your birthday plans with all of these people.”

“Of course I’m happy, don’t be silly,” said Andrea, giggling and feeling sparks of euphoria tickling her insides. “Did they _all_ know? I mean, obviously Mum knew, she’s been acting strangely all day, but what about the rest of them?”

“Your grandparents knew – that’s why they came out here, but my family and your friends didn’t know. Wait! Frida knew, yeah – I told her and Fred in case I needed help distracting you while I poked it into your Cauldron Cake, but it worked out alright I think.”

“George! Andrea!” Fred’s voice called back around the hedge of tea plants from the table, “Come on you lot, the Honeymoon isn’t until _after_ you’re married!”

“Come on, then,” said Andrea, eager to bask in the ambiance of their celebration, “We’d better not keep him waiting or he’s likely to start saying things that my family might find embarrassing…”

“Wait, lovely, give me a sec,” said George, catching her by the wrist. 

“What is it?” asked Andrea. 

George tugged Andrea’s wrist firmly, swinging her into his arms suddenly. He leaned over her with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist so that her ribs dug into his stomach.

“I love you,” he whispered, taking her face in his hands and hissing her softly, taking Andrea’s breath away. 

“GEORGE!” shouted Fred in the distance, shaking Andrea and George from their brief rendezvous.

Andrea and George were greeted by another round of applause when they returned to the party. Many guests, including Andrea’s Hogwarts friends, got to their feet to embrace her and offer their best wishes. Jamie could hardly keep herself together when she hugged Andrea, wiping tears of joy from her face as she made way for Mrs. Weasley to fuss over her. 

Even Penelope congratulated Andrea on her engagement, though Andrea noticed that she kept glancing over to where Percy sat quietly next to Mr. Weasley. 

“Now that everyone is back and settled,” said Fred in a clear voice, standing at his seat and tapping his goblet with his fork, “I’d like to say a few words!

The crowd obediently took their seats and stared up at Fred who was beaming around at everyone. 

“Well, I’d like to start off by saying that I couldn’t be happier these last months that I’ve been back – and George’s great proposal to lovely Andrea just might take the cake! Andrea, welcome to the family in advance – it’s long overdue! Georgie will make quite a suitable husband for you I should think – the business is booming, the dream team is back together,” said Fred, winking and pointing to himself, “and we already know how well he keeps you entertained in his free time.

Andrea glanced over at her parents, wondering if her mother was getting embarrassed about her grandmother hearing about Andrea and George’s premarital affairs, but she did not appear to be perturbed. She was clutching Robert’s hand, looking positively smug with joy as she watched Fred give his speech. 

“And speaking of people being keeping busy in their free time, I can see no better time to make a special announcement,” said Fred, dramatically. Angelina, who was seated at his side, tugged on his sleeve and shook her head warningly. 

“Fred, _no_ ,” Angelina whispered, “It’s _Andrea’s_ day!” 

Fred gave Angelina’s shoulder a squeeze, but proceeded his speech in spite of her protests. 

“There will soon be another Weasley joining the family besides Andrea – Angelina and I are _expecting_!” 

There was a deafening silence, broken only by clatter of Roger’s fork dropping from his frozen hand to the floor. 

Angelina smiled sheepishly at Andrea, then covered her eyes with a hand in the silence that followed. No one spoke for several seconds, before George got to his feet and patted Fred on the shoulder and shook his hand.

“Congratulations Fred, Angelina!” said George with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, what an amazing way to end the night,” said Andrea, standing up and hugging Fred and Angelina in turn. 

The rest of the table seemed to still be shocked into silence. Perhaps they had been wondering if this was Fred’s idea of a joke, but soon the rest of the party, particularly Mrs. Weasley, congratulated and questioned Fred and Angelina until Radhika grabbed Andrea and George and lead them to seats next to Andrea’s grandparents.

“My loves,” said Andrea’s mum, “Grandma wants to talk to you two about your engagement.”

“But… do you not approve of the engagement?” George asked Grandma Fari somewhat hesitantly. 

“I approve of you, dear boy, but I’d like it very much if you and my granddaughter had a _proper_ engagement party,” said Grandma Fari, crossing her arms and raising a definitive brow at George.

“Proper?” asked George, looking to Andrea in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, dear,” said Radhika, patting George’s arm, “My mother is from India, and it is customary to have an engagement ceremony. You don’t _have_ to do it…”

Radhika stopped short upon receiving a dark look from Grandma Fari. 

“No worries, Mrs. Clearwater,” said George, then taking Grandma Fari by the hand, “We can do it again. I don’t mind proposing to this lovely lady again.”

Just then Robert appeared beside them carrying a small birthday cake (as if they needed any more desert) with twenty-three candles on top. The chatter at once transformed into a choir of _Happy Birthday_. 

“Make a wish, my darling,” said Andrea’s dad, setting the cake down before her.

Andrea stared from the dancing flames before her to the smiling faces of her family and friends. What more could she possibly wish for? At that moment, Andrea could not have possibly imagined a purer joy. She had her dream job, her dream husband, Fred was alive and well, a niece or nephew on the way, and her whole family and her best friends were there to celebrate with her. 

Andrea closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then promised herself that she would never allow herself to forget this moment. They had suffered so much the past few years. They deserved this. They deserved a happy, normal life. Sometimes Andrea wondered if happiness was simply a fleeting state between trouble times, but tonight Andrea felt certain that anything was possible. Perhaps, sometimes, there really could be a happily ever after. 

With a great puff, the candles were out, sending spirals of black smoke swirling up into the night – soaring above the laughing, joyous throng below, who celebrated late into the Halloween night and on into the wee hours of the morning. 


	22. SNEAK PEEK at The Wizard of Witley Court

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I am in the process of cleaning up Hogwarts: A Clearwater Perspective, but I'm also working on a short story that one of my readers (and my muse) requested about Roger Davies and Frida. Here is the first chapter! It will likely be rated "M" and will be at least 6-7 chapters long, and switches back and forth between Frida's and Roger's perspective. I have included a small portion of Chapter One for you all below! I hope you enjoy!

“But Frida,” whined James, a ferrety boy of about thirteen, as he jumped down from a large boulder onto the springy earthen path on which they were walking. “How come I always get stuck with the rubbish jobs?! You just want all the fun parts for yourself!” 

“How many times do I have to explain this to you?” said Frida, as she marched up the path from the dense woods to the meadow ahead, rolling her eyes to prevent herself from calling her brother an idiot or something of the like. “You aren’t allowed to touch the animals. Many of them are dangerous and Mr. Novák says only adults can groom the thestrals.”

“I’m  _ not  _ a child anymore!” groused James, lobbing a rock at a nearby tree as they passed. 

“Well you aren’t a _man_ either, are you?” said Frida bitingly, quickening her pace as she neared the end of the path and emerged into a dancing field of oat grass that shimmered like gold in the late-July sunset. “It’s done! Stop complaining – just scrape the manure off of your boots and forget about it. Why don’t you ask Dad if you can take a ride on Shelly? We’ve still got a little time until the sun goes down, and I’d rather spend it relaxing than listening to your griping.” 

“Fine – but don’t ever let me hear you saying that I’m ‘not a man’ again, or else I might be tempted to put a cow patty under your pillow,” said James before giving her a nasty look and running through the windy field ahead of her towards the Novák’s country cottage. 

Frida was not disturbed at all by James’s threats – he knew well enough that her retribution wouldn’t make a prank like that feel worth his while, so she took her time, basking in the field’s sweet summer breeze as she slowly made her way back to the cottage for the night. 

The Novák’s were her godfather’s in-laws, and they had been kind enough to give Frida’s family refuge at their cottage-ranch after recent circumstances made it impossible for them to continue living in London. In fact, her godfather, Robert Clearwater, and his wife were also staying with the Novák’s for similar reasons. 

Unbeknown to even their closest neighbors, some ten miles away, the Novák’s and the Clearwater’s had a secret, and this secret was the main reason that Frida had to leave her job as a hairstylist and quit to the country without notifying any of her friends. 

The Novák’s and the Clearwater’s were  _ wizards _ . Real wizards with magic wands, broomsticks, cauldrons, and had to answer to an entire government which administered their kind. Most people would have a hard time believing these things, but Frida was used to it. Her godfather was not actually a wizard, he was just married to a witch, but Frida’s dad and Robert had been friends since childhood, so by the time Frida was born over twenty years ago, her family had already been accepted by the wizarding government as Ministry- approved “Muggle’s” (as they called normal people). 

Frida had grown up alongside Andrea, Robert’s daughter and Frida’s very best friend, so Frida was just about as familiar with the wizarding world as she was the world outside; in fact, Frida had spent so much time in Diagon Alley (a wizarding part of London where Andrea lived) that she sometimes forgot about the normal world. 

Unfortunately, not everyone appreciated Frida’s presence in their secret world of magic. About a year and a half ago, Frida’s dad, Pat, was brutally assaulted and tortured by a group of wizards that hated people who were not born with magical abilities. He had nearly died and had suffered considerable emotional trauma, but it had not been enough to send her family fleeing from their London home. 

Almost half-a-year past his attack, the leader of the anti-muggle movement (called You-Know-Who amongst wizards) had shown up in the Ministry of Magic building after the Ministry had claimed numerous times that there could be no way that You-Know-Who had returned from the dead to terrorize muggles and wizards alike. 

That had been the turning point for Frida’s parents, and at the insistence of her godparents, Robert and Radhika, they had decided to go into hiding at Radhika’s parent’s home in the country. Without a word to anyone outside the family, Frida and her family moved North-West to the Novák’s little cottage. 

Frida had worried that it would be cramped living with eight people in a modest cottage, but Frida was pleasantly surprised to find that the cottage was much larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside – one of the many benefits of rubbing shoulders with wizards. 

Her overall experience the last year or so had been mainly pleasant; the Novák’s had many acres for Frida to roam, and she quite liked her job tending to Mr. Novák’s horses and other magical equine beasts that he bred for a living. There was even a muggle pub within walking distance of the main road if Frida got sick of seeing no one but her family (which happened relatively frequently, in fact). 

Andrea did drop by now and then, but her visits were never long, as she was running her parent’s tea shop in London between carrying out clandestine missions for one of her old professors and spending time with her boyfriend, George. Frida could hardly blame her for wanting to stay in London. In fact, it had been a while since Frida had met anyone worth hooking up with, so she couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous when she imagined Andrea keeping busy with living the city life that Frida so loved. 

The meadow and nearby paddocks were growing dark, so Frida decided it was time to re-join her old people in the cottage. Her mom probably would want some help setting up for dinner – even though Radhika could probably do it in less than ten seconds with a flick of her wand. 

Frida rounded an outcrop of trees and started down the crackly slate path that lead from the meadow to the cottage. The Novák’s cottage looked like it had come straight out of a fairy tale; it had a fluffy thatched roof and white walls where roses from the garden climbed, framing its latticed windows. 

Frida opened the creaky wooden gate and strode through the garden towards the back porch, booting off a garden gnome that pounced out at her from behind a little bush along the way. Just ahead, Frida spotted her father, Robert, and Mr. Novák sitting together on a couple benches on the front porch swirling whiskey in their glasses. 

Mr. Novák was smoking a thick cigar and watching Frida kindly as she approached. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” said Mr. Novák in his rich, gravelly timbre. “I hope you aren’t too tired for a nip of whiskey.” 

“Never,” said Frida with a grin, accepting a tumbler from Robert. 

“Robert was just telling us that my granddaughter isn’t coming this weekend after all,” said Mr. Novák, taking a sip from his tumbler. 

“Andrea cancelled?” asked Frida, taking a seat next to her dad across from Robert and Mr. Novák. Frida had been looking forward to some social time with someone her own age. “Why?”

“Minerva McGonagall has an important project for her, but Andrea couldn’t say what,” said Robert, glancing over his shoulder through the kitchen window, as if to check to see if his wife was nearby. “Radhika worries, but she can hold her own. I couldn’t be prouder.” 

“You should be,” said Frida’s dad, Pat. “She’s running your family business on top of everything else. It’s too bad she’s all alone.”

“She’s not alone,” said Frida, taking another sip of her scotch. “She’s got George Weasley. I don’t even think he sleeps in his flat anymore, he’s always over there with her. She hardly lets him sleep with – ”

“ _ Alright _ , alright!” said Robert, holding up his hand and shaking his head as if his whiskey had soured. “I’ve heard enough of that, I think.” 

“Sorry, Robert,” laughed Frida, and tried to feel at least a little sorry for forgetting to hold her tongue again. Frida kicked her legs onto her dad’s lap and leaned her back against a pillar. As pleasant as it was to spend the evening drinking whiskey among the fireflies and chirping crickets, Frida couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

She knew that would only continue to feel trapped if she couldn’t get out once in a while, or at least have social calls with Andrea. It had been hard enough disappearing off the face of the planet, but part of her had gotten some melodramatic, angsty pleasure at the notion of pretending not to exist. Instead, the days were blurring together, and her trips to the pub weren’t enough to quell her need for a change of scenery. 

She had been tuning out the men’s conversation for a little while as she was lost in her own thoughts, but something Mr. Novák said caught her attention. 

“Well, I’ve got to deliver a couple of foal thestrals to Hogwarts, but Daisy and Eva are at the right age now and I’ve got someone who wants them the same day as the Hogwarts delivery. I’m sorry to part with them, but I’m afraid I had to close the deal. The only problem is I’m going to need one of you boys to deliver Daisy and Eva, if you can. Winged Abraxen are easier to transport than thestrals so it shouldn’t too much of a – ” 

“I’ll do it!” said Frida before Robert or her father could agree. 

Pat and Robert exchanged a look while Mr. Novák surveyed her from under the brim of his hat, his age-lined face shifting as he raised his wiry grey eyebrows in surprise. 

“Oh yeah?” chuckled Mr. Novák, blowing out a large puff of bright purple smoke from his wizard cigar. “Have you had enough of the Granian horses, then? Or perhaps you wish to evade trimming the hippogriffs’ hooves next Wednesday?” 

“Respectfully, Mr. Novák,” said Frida, leaning forward so he could see how serious she was, “It definitely isn’t either of those reasons. I just want to get out and about – don’t get me wrong! I love it here, but I’d like to do something different for once.”

“Your mum won’t like it,” said Pat, raising an eyebrow at her. “You are aware of that?”

“Yes, I  _ know _ ,” said Frida as patiently as she could, “But Andrea goes out all the time! On  _ missions _ no less! I’ve been out of school longer than she has, so I – ” 

“Andrea is a  _ witch _ ,” said Pat sternly. “You are not. We are in hiding for a reason, Frida.”

“You think I don’t  _ know _ that Dad?” huffed Frida, “No one knows we’re here right? The only neighbors are muggles and the Novák’s aren’t even on the Flu Network! You and Robert are muggles too – what difference does it make if I go versus one of you? Is it because I’m a woman?” 

“Well, no…” said Pat, glancing around uncomfortably at Robert as if he were looking for backup. Robert simply smiled and chuckled to himself. 

“What do you think, Robert?” asked Frida, hoping that her godfather at least would take her side. 

“Well, you are a grown woman, and what you said is true…” said Robert. “I suppose the only one that can really have the say so is Mr. Novák here. We can’t stop you, can we?”

“Let’s just see what the wives have to say first, can’t we?” said Pat. 

As frustrating as Frida found her father’s hesitations, she did understand his anxiety, at letting his daughter out of his sight, after what had happened to him in Knockturn Alley over a year ago. Still, Frida had hoped that Mr. Novák would have given some sign that he had agreed to her proposition, but he remained silently puffing away at his cigar until they were called in for dinner by Helena, Frida’s mother. 

Frida helped Radhika clear the round, wooden kitchen table of the large vases of lavender, sage, and rosemary and trays of baked snacks that usually sat there during the day, and they had the table set just in time for Mrs. Novák (or Grandma Fari as Frida liked to call her) to place a large cauldron of bubbling curry and a bowl of rice right in the middle. 

As they all ate Frida waited for her father to mention her proposal, but by the time Grandma Fari summoned pudding with an elegant flick of her wand, the subject still had not been broached. 

“So, Dad,” said Frida pointedly, just as Pat had dipped his spoon into his pudding, “Didn’t you say there was something that you wanted to run by ‘ _ the wives’ _ ?” 

“Er, can’t it wait? I’d like to have more time to think on it myself,” said Pat, his green eyes flicking from Helena to Frida and then fell to rest on Mr. Novák nervously. 

“Well, there isn’t much time to think about it since it’s happening next week, and really I shouldn’t need anyone’s permission but Mr. Novák’s anyways so – ”

“ _ Alright _ , now I’d very much like to know what you lot are talking about,” said Helena, raising a dark eyebrow at Pat. 

Frida hurriedly explained the situation to her mother, Radhika and Grandma Fari, careful not to sound too impatient. After she had finished the three women looked at each other curiously. 

“ _ I  _ think she’s just trying to get out of her chores!” James piped in, squinting devilishly at her from across the table. 

“ _ Stuff _ it, James,” hissed Frida, before turning back to her mother. 

“I don’t know Frida,” said Helena heavily, “I would like to keep the family together as much as possible. I couldn’t bear it if you went missing.”

“Why would I go missing?” asked Frida. “Anyway, either dad or Robert is going to have to go, so I don’t see why I’m any worse of an option. If I could survive walking around London on my own I don’t see why I couldn’t manage a  _ day  _ on my own in the country! Mr. Novák said the house is a good three hours from the city!”

“Give the girl some space, Helena,” said Radhika with a twinkle in her eye, “I know the family that the Abraxen are going to. They’re a nice family, and it will give Frida a chance to have some of her independence back. I know how my daughter gets if I hover over her too much. They can’t stay babies forever. That’s not to say that you and Andrea aren’t  _ our  _ babies still, Frida.” 

“I agree,” said Grandma Fari, staring knowingly at Frida with her piercing amber-green eyes. “I understand very well the need to stay on the move. Now that I am older, I have lost much of that need, but the young heart seeks exploration. It has been a long time since Frida has been able to do so.” 

Frida glanced at Robert, who was diplomatically silent as usual, then to her father. He scratched his blonde head in obvious disquiet, but he seemed to be outnumbered and more resigned to Frida’s plans. This was her chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here are the links that I used to keep my timeline matched with the canon!
> 
> https://www.hp-lexicon.org/calendars-harry-potter-novels/day-day-calendar-order-phoenix/
> 
> https://www.hp-lexicon.org/timeline/master-timeline/the-modern-era/the-second-rise-of-voldemort/harry-potters-fifth-year/
> 
> *These chapters have only been rough-edited, but I will re-upload each chapter once all chapters are uploaded with a fine-combed version.


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